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iRDEALS. 





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Cliap......„ Copyright No. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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COFFIN'S POEMS 



with 



Ajax' Ordeals 



by 



<^ 



p. B. Coffin 




LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS: 

The Colored Advocate, Printers and Binders. 

1897. 



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Copyright 1897 by 
F. B. Coffin. 



Dedicated 

FIRST. 

To the memory 
Of that angelic woman, 

Who daimed me as her son ; 
Of that majestic woman, 

Whose race on earth was run — 
Long before I was old enough, 

To reason right from wrong; 
Lone: before I listened to 

Redemption's saving song. 
Of that Christ loving woman, 

Who's now at Jesus' home, 
Who sits and talks with angels. 

And with archangels roam. 

SECOND. 

To the conscience of the nation, 

With the hopes that it may rise 
To the point of elevation 

That will open up its eyes, 
And lend to us a list'ning ear. 

For the pitiful tale of woe, 
That Ajax* cannot sleep at night 

For lynchers are aglow. 



They burn poor Ajax at the stake, 

They hang him to a tree ; 
They chop him up like sausage meat, 

From home they make him flee. 




*The latter part of this volume will explain 
who Ajax is. 



Preface. 

Brief is our life here, precious is tiie time, 
and great the work to do, and a few thoughts 
in print has the possibility of a longer life than 
a man. " The night conieth when no man can 
work." 

How sweet, if it might be, that when the 
day is ended, we may have left some watch 
words still ringing in the ears of those who 
come after us. And I may be permitted to 
hope that these meditations may have such 
power, in their modest way. They will be 
easily passed by but may have a message for 
hearts that will look and listen. 

There is, certainly in this age, a want of 
writinorthat shall rest and brace the mind. It 
is well to extend natural and spontaneous 
thoughts, especially that which the heart has 
laid by in store. We must be militant here on 
earth, militant against every form of error. 

If, during the period of American Slavery, 
any Anglo-Saxon raised his voice or moved 
his pen in the interest of the stolen and op- 
pressed African, that man was marked, reviled 
and ostracised as if he was affected with the 
leprosy. No historian could write a true re- 



cord of the sons of Ham in the hope of 
finding a market for his book. The press, the 
pulpit, the writer and publisher were all 
against the Negro and suppressed the fact of 
his ancient greatness. Inthosedays the white 
man wrote for the white man, and now the 
black man must write for the black man, and 
give them proper and merited rank among the 
historic people of earth. It requires quite an 
amount of courage for a colored man to write, 
standinor with his heels rubbing asrainst the 
hardships and degradations of slavery while his 
toes are leading off into ostracism, prejudice, 
mob violence and the blood-chilling horrors of 
southern lynching. But we must build up 
breastworks for the cominsf orenerations. To 
do that we must swell the list of Coopers, Har- 
pers, Wells-Barretts, Simmons, Majors and 
other Negro authors. 

A few poems now offered differ from other 
works of natural sentiment, inismuch as it is 
not a compilation but a collection original. 
These maybe but little worthy of appreciation, 
yet have that value which the simple philosophy 
recognizes: " A poor thing, sir, but inine 
oivn.'' F. B. Coffin. 



Preamble. 

PAST. 

"Were Africa and the Africans to sink to- 
morrow, how much poorer would the world be? 
A little less gold, ivory, and coffee, a consid- 
erable ripple, perhaps, where the Atlantic and 
Indian Oceans would come together — that is 
all; not a poem, not an invention, not a piece 
of art would be missed from the world." 

Henry Ward Beecher. 

PRESENT. 

"What have you produced, what consum- 
ed? What is your real value in the world's 
economy? What do you give to the world 
over and above what you have cost? What 
are you worth? In thefinal reckoning do you 
beh)ng on the debit or the credit side of the 
account? Show up your cash account and 
balance sheet, and what's the result? 

It is by this standard that society estimates 
individuals ; and by this standard finally and 
inevitably the world will measure and judge 
nations and races." 

Anna Julia Cooper. 



FUTURE. 

In this age ideal frivolity supersedes stern 
reality. In most of our large cities in the 
South — outside of the college societies — there 
are no permanent, genuine literary organiza- 
tions among our so called intelligent people 
for elevaticm. 

They meet socially with no definite purpose 
to social elevation. They meet religiously 
with their souls on fashion and God as secon- 
dary. They never meet intellectually. These 
talents grow up in thorns and thistles. Noth- 
ing to inspire our youths to merit. Position, 
irrespective to character or ability, reigns su- 
preme. Thousands of youths grow up under 
this poisonous atmosphere in the large cities. 
But it is encouraging to see that, from the 
smaller towns, the college walls(our safe- 
guards) are filled with youths preparing them- 
selves to meet the demands of future times. 

What is the worth of fashion, style, and 
social ethics if it does not add to the world 
better, nobler, truer, sounder, more reliable 
men from its factory ? Time will not attempt 
to test their logic but will, eventually, weigh 
the results. Author. 



At My Mother's Orave^ 

I never see the burial place, 
Where my dear mother lies ; 
But that I think I see her face, 
Peak at me through the skies. 

I stand around her sacred mound. 
And think she knows I'm there; 
I kneel upon the sacred ground 
And lisp her evening prayer. 

Her fav'rite hymn I then repeat. 
With accents all her own ; 
We seem to meet at Jesus' feet. 
And linger near His throne. 

She sleeps within her narrow cot, 
Safe "tucked in" from the night; 
Resigned, I leave the solemn spot, 
"God doeth all things ri^ht." 



10 MEMORY OF MOTHER. 

Memory of Mother. 

The last time mother walked with me, 

October skies were bUie ; 
The gnipe-vine on the cherry tree, 

Had found its autumn hue. 

Her low combed hair was just the shade 

Of ripened hazel burs; 
The cheeks of yellow astrackans. 

Were not more ripe than hers. 

It seemed the mushrooms showed their caps, 

To win her eyes of black ; 
And for one look into their depths. 

The orchard boughs bent back. 

A stalwart of the days gone by, 
That soon the days should chill ; 

Dear ma, somewhere those eyes must wear 
A gleam of summer still. 



Our Country. 

This star spangled banner country, 
Ts styled as the "Land of Free;" 

And yet our race here suffers wrong. 
Mixed with great humility. 



OUR COUNTRY. 11 

We try to live by both the laws, 

Of righteous God and man ; 
And on all public questions, 

For right we try to stand. 

And yet to suit the appetites, 

Of other wicked men ; 
Our race is lynched, our race is mobbed, 

O! what a wretched sin. 

Can men of church and men of state, 

Who detest human strife. 
Carry a Christian conscience clear. 

And still take human life? 

That awful day is sure to come, 

"The appointed hour make haste," 

When they must stand before their God, 
And pass that solenm test. 

We know not if the dark or bright, 

Is going to be our lot ; 
If that wherein our hopes delight. 

Be best, indeed, or not. 

It may be ours in future years, 

To live with all in peace; 
If those who now despise our race. 

Let hostile outrage cease. 



12 OUR COUNTRY. 

What an hour it must have been 
For a woman's tender heart, 

When the pityless, rough lynchers, 
Tore she'nd her husband apart. 

And while the mother clasped her hands 
And the children wept and prayed; 

The whole family made struggles, 
And shrieked to heaven for aid. 

The atrocities of Ru^ssia 

Against the thriving Jew, 
And the horrors of Liberia, 

Would disappear from view. 

Mob violence against China, 

And all the heathen lands ; 
Is far surpassed by lynch law. 

In this, our Southern land. 

If we ask ourselves the question 
*' Why do they lynch the Negro?" 

Our hearts respond full sadly, 
''They, nor we, do not know." 

We've asked the wise in every age, 
And searched the universe around ; 

But neither scientist nor sage, 

An answer to the quest has found. 



OUR COUNTRY. 13 

Is it God's will, what seer can tell? 

(Thus do our anxious thoughts revolve) 
Or is there not some oracle, 

That can or will the problem solve? 

Are we but phantoms, with no cause, 
But chance from cradle to the grave ; 

Or those inexorable laws 

Of which agnostics boast and rave? 

Or are we orphans with no home. 
With none whom we can father call ; 

As outcasts here a while to roam. 

And then pass off with " death ends all?" 

No ! let us not discouraged be 

But hope and ever pray 
That wrong and inhumanity, 

May cease to be some day. 

While the storms of life are raging 

Lynching wild in our land, 
Can we find a better refuge 

Than the shadow of God's hand? 

But what shall cleanse our country 

From all this painful guilt, 
The blood of freemen shed by freemen, 

Upon her bosom spilt? 



14 OUR COUNTRY. 

When the pilgrim fathers came 

From far across the sea ; 
Their purposes were nobler than 

The lynching of the free. 

When Washinofton at Vallev Forge 

Endured the winter's pain, 
And when he crossed the Deleware 

'Tvvas all for freedom's name. 

He knew not that a cent'ry hence, 
The tiag for which he fought ; 

Would be disgraced by lynching men, 
By taking life for naught. 

When Lincoln gave that mighty stroke, 
When Sherman reached the sea, 

When Grant took Appomatax, 
Their cry was liberty. 

When John Brown laid his body down 
And his soul went marching (»n. 

He knew not that his cause would be 
Disgraced by this great wrong. 

Could these great men speak back today 

From their resting domain; 
They'd whisper all in one accord, 

*'Our blood was spilt in vain." 



OUR COUNTRY. 17 

Dear native land, a newer page 

Must turn as time moves by ; 
Shall that page be brighter, 

Or shall thy greatness die? 

Thou hast a noble government, 

And 'tis with trembling heart, 
That we see what thou appearftst 

And look on what thou art. 

We've wept till we could not weep, 
And the pain of our burning eyes 

Has gone into our aching hearts. 
And now the nation cries. 

Earth uplifts a general cry. 

For all this guilt and wrong; 
And heaven's ears are listening 

To the suff'rers' wailino^ sonor. 

Who'll interpret this mystery? 

Even the common dust 
Under the feet of the guilty 

Cries out "this crime's unjust." 

But we shall see the day, 

When riofht shall surely reign ; 
W^hen at the bar of conscience, 

The guilty shall be slain. 



18 OUli COUNTRY. 



It may be when Ida Wells' lessons have been 

learned 
The lynchers sun forever more has set, 
The things which our weak judgment here have 

spurned, 
The thino^s o'er which we've tj^rieved withlash- 

es wet, 
Will flash before them out of life's dark night 
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue. 
And they shall see how all her plans were right 
And how what seemed reproof was love most 

true; 
And when those nations far across the sea 
Begin to point o'er here the finger of shame, 
And show our state the depth of all these 

crimes, 
I think she will take steps to stop the same. 

You know that prudent parents disallow 
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood ; 
So God, perhaps, is holding from us now 
Life's sweetestthings because it seemethgood, 
And they shall shortly know that lengthened 

breath 
Is not the sweetest o^ift Godsends His friends, 



ONLY. 1» 

And that sometimes the sable pall of death 
Conceals the fairest boon His love can send. 
And if through all this strife we live to stand 
Where our minds from lynching news may rest, 
Then we shall clearly know and understand ; 
1 think that all will say "God knew the best," 



Only. 

Only Afric's jungles 

Satisfied his mind, 
While the happy Negro 

On his couch reclined. 

Only a human trading ship 
Coasting along the shore. 

The Negro knew not whither 
Still he had to go. 

Only a "Star Spangled banner,' 
The Negro saw it wave, 

But he saw not "land of free" 
Neither "home of brave." 

Only slavery's hardships 
The Negro bore for years, 

On through the wilderness 
With headaches and tears. 



20 ONLY. 



Only John Brown's body 
Is moulding in the clc\v, 

Yet his soul is niarchino^. 
Showing us the way. 

Only Bull Run's battle, 
Up sprang General Grant, 

Four long years of bloodshed, 
Freedom was the chant. 

Only Abraham Lincoln 
Gave the mighty stroke, 

And four million Negroes 
Lost the slavish yoke. 

Only an education, 

That is what he wants. 
And to be a citizen 

But they say he can't. 

Only abiding by the law 

Of our God and man. 
And on all public questions 

For the right, he tries to stand. 

Only to suit the appetites 

Of other wicked men. 
Our race is mobb'd and lynch'd 

Isn't that a sin? 



MOTHER'S SONGS, 21 

Only proud America 

Detests human strife, 
Still has not courage to 

Protect human life. 

Only that coming day, 

'Pointed hour make haste, 

She must stand 'fore her God, 
Past that solemn test. 



Mother's Songs, 

The summer's sun was beaming hot. 
The boys had played all day; 

And now beside a rippling stream. 
Upon the grass they lay. 

Tired of games and idle jest. 

As swept the hours along, 
They called on one who mused at times, 

*'Come pard, give us a song," 

"I fear I cannot please," he said, 

"The only songs I know 
Are those my mother used to .sing 

To me lono: years ago." 



22 MOTHER'S SONGS. 

**Sing oneof those," arough voice said, 
''There's none but true men here; 

Toev'ry mother's son of us 
A mother's song is dear." 

Then sweetly rose the singer's voice, 

Amid unwonted cahii: 
"Am I a soldier of the cross 

A follower of the lamb." 

"And shall I fear to own his cause" 

Every heart seemed stilled, 
And hearts that never throbbed with fear, 

With tender thoughts were tilled. 

As the singer closed he said, 
" Boys, we must face the foes" 

Then thanking them for their invite 
Upon his feet he rose. 

" Sing us one more the young men said, 

The sinorer hunor his head, 
Then glancing 'round with smiling lips, 

"You'll join with me," he said. 

We'll sing that old familiar air. 

Sweet as the bugle call ; 
"All hail the power of Jesus name, 

Lfet Angels prostrate fall." 



MOTHER'S SONGS. 23 

And wondrous was the old tune's spell, 

As on the singer sang ; 
Man after man fell into line, 
And loud their voices rang. 

One cried out *'my mother sings 

'Just as I am though tossed about;' " 

And the crowd picked up the anthem — 
"With many a conflict, many a doubt." 

The next said *'I seem to hear, 
'It's rock of ages cleft for me,' " 

And the boys joined in with feeling 
"Let me hide myself in thee." 

Another said "I'm an outcast, 
But when I've nowhere to roam, 

I think of mother and the city 
Which, long since she's made her home." 

The next one said with tearful eyes 

"My mother's in eternity. 
Her song was 'O rock of ages 

In thy cleft hide thou me.' " 

Hush'd are her lips, the song's ended. 

The singer sleeps at last ; 
While I sit here in deep wonder. 

And think of days, long past. 



24 MOTHER'S SONGS. 

The room still echoes with music. 

As singing soft and low, 
Those grand sw^eet Christian carols, 

They rock her too and fro. 

Safe hidden in the '*Rock of Ages" 

She bade farewell to fear; 
Sure that her Lord'd always lead her 

'' She read her title clear." 

Dear Saint in mansions long folded. 
Safe in God's fostering love, 

She joins in the blissful chorus. 
Of those bright choirs above. 

There she knows not pain, nor sorrow. 

Safe beyond Jordan's roll 
She lives with her blessed Jesus 

The lover of her soul. 

These boys are men, the stream still runs, 

Those songs, they still are heard; 
And oh! the depth of every soul. 
By those old hymns is stirred. 

And up from many a bearded lip. 

In whispers soft and low ; 
Rises the songs the mother taught 

The boy long years ago. 



SPOTLESS. 25 



Spotless. 

(James 1:21) 



Spotless, spotless, spotless, spotless, 
At the sounding of that word, 

All my soul turned up to heaven, 
All my heart within me stirred. 

Would that I could stand out spotless, 
Lord, I know that Thou hast died, 

Thou hast stood for ages spotless 
Bidding men come and abide. 

Lord, build up for me a ladder, 

Reaching into perfect day. 
That my hopes this word may grapple, 

Showing me the right of way. 

Blooming flowers all seem spotless. 
On the spotless hill and dell. 

Oh, how beautiful they all are. 
And how fragrant too they smell. 

The spotless birds, they spring along, 
And chirp the song of jubilee ; 

I like to hear their spotless songs. 
They make my melancholy flee. 



S6 SPOTLESS. 

I wish that I could so be found, 
While traveling life's brief way, 

A spotless light to every one, 
Where'er my footsteps stray. 

Once a woman tried to show me 

Something spotless, bright and new, 

And she pick'd for illustration 
Objects of the dirtiest hue. 

** Lady" said I, eager, anxious, 

"Why do vou choose thinsfs so vile?" 

*'Just to show the cleansing process," 
Said the lady with a smile. 

Then she said "these dirty colors. 

Hardest to remove of all. 
Can be made by constant rubbing 

White as snowflake in its fall." 

These words struck my heart with power, 
Made my soul within me throb, 

** Dirty colors'* — -** white as snowflake" 
Can this woman? Cannot God? 

Lord, I long to be made spotless. 
What lack I to make me thine ? 

Not in name but spotless truly, 
Would I have thy ways, not mine. 



SPOTLESS. 27 

Is there anything not spotless 
That I cherish more than Thee, 

Loved ones, money, fame or talent? 
Lord reveal them now to me. 

Lord I think how Thou, though spotless, 
Left thy Heavenly home on high, 

Gave up all Thy spotless glory. 
Came to earth for us, to die. 

Jesus spoke from out His mansion : 
**Thou, as I, can spotless be. 

Vilest hearts have been made precious, 
Simply trust and follow me." 

Then I cried, " O Jesus take me, 
Give me spotless, crimson wings, 

Stamp my name upon thy roll book, 
Take it to the spotless King." 

* * * * 

Oh, what spotless, rapturous music ! 

Heaven's gates seemed open wide, 
And I stood there clear and spotless. 

Near the Saviour's spotless side. 

Spotless in God's spotless mansions I 
Spotless in His spotless light ! 
God's own love, majestic, spotless, 

Made me crimson, spotless white! 



S8 MOTHERLY EMOTION 8. 



Motherly Emotions. 

A mother* came passing by m}^ door, 
Her son was near by my side ; 

*' Howdy mama" was her son's adore, 
" How^dy my son" she replied. 

And as I gazed upon that mother, 
The tears rushed to my eyes ; 

My heart's affections began to swell. 
My mind went to paradise. 

While there it found that one model, 
Who, sixteen long years ago, 

By the blessed Saviour's command, 
Left all earth's sorrows below. 

*' What word is sweeter than mother. 
What place is dearer than home?" 

These words are our associates 
Wherever in life we roam. 

Napoleon was a worldly man. 
Yet one o^reat thino^ he uttered, 

When from conscience clear he said, 
" What France most needs is mothers." 



MOTHERLY EMOTIONS. 29 

Home, that sanctuary of love, 
That stamps impressions for life, 

Who's the heart of affection there? 
It is the mother, the wife. 

A mother's love! oh, no one knows 
How much of life's feelinofs lies. 

In those sweet words, the fears, the hopes, 
And dailv strens^theninof ties. 

It wakes ere yet the infant dreams 

It's earliest vital breath; 
And fails but when the mother's heart 

Chills in the grasp of death. 

Who knows the worth of mother? 

Not those who see her daily ; 
But those who watch that vacant chair 

Whose days are dark and dreary. 

But when I am tossed and driven, 

And feel like I'm all alone; 
I think of mother and that city. 

Which long since she's made her home. 

Mother, while playing at thy knees. 

Within my youthful heart ; 
There dwelt no secret consciousness. 

That thou would e'er depart. 



30 MOTHERLY EMOTIONS. 

Since thou hast gone I now have learned 

To bow my stubborn will, 
The power that calms the raging sea 

My rebel heart has stilled. 

So I can look with fearless ejes 

On all these earthly fates, 
But how coulds't thou afford to die 

And leave me desolate ? 

I should not weep for thee, dear one, 
While with the saints thou art. 

But how can I in coldness check 
The burning tears that start? 

My thoughts to thee must ever turn 

As in my infant days, 
While in my heart thine image shall 

Lead me through life's rough ways. 

Rest, dearest one, may angel host 
Their vigils o'er thee keep. 

How can I breath thy saintly name 
And yet forbear to weep? 

I stand heartbroken on dull earth 
And gaze on the vacant skies. 

Mother I cannot see thy face. 
Dost thou hear thy son's crj? 



CONSOLATION. 31 

If in God's likeness 1 may awake 
And shine in pure image by thee, 

I'll be satisfied when I can break 
The fetters of flesh and be free. 

Mrs. L. E. S. 



Consolation. 

Friends can't you tell me something? 

I am weary and worn tonight. 
The day has gone like a shadow 

And only the evening is light. 

Tell me about the Master, 

Of the burdensome hills he trod. 

When the tears and blood from his an- 
guish 
Dropped down on Judea's sod. 

Tell me about the Master, 

Of the wrongs he freely forgave. 

Of His love and His tender compassion, 
Of His love that is mighty to save. 

For my heart is restless and weary 
Of the woes and temptations of life. 

Of all the treacherous conflicts 

Of falsehood, and malice, and strife. 



S'i LIFE WHAT WE MAKE IT. 

So tell me the sweet old story 

That falls on each wound like a balm, 

And mj heart now bruised and broken, 
Shall grow patient, strong, and calm. 



Life What We Make It. 

My life is a wearisome journey ; 

I'm sick with the times and the heat. 
The rays of the sun beat upon me ; 

Life's briars are wounding my feet. 

There are so many hills leading upwards 
It keeps me a longing for rest. 

But he who appoints me my journey. 
Knows just what is needful and best. 

He loves me too well to forsake me. 
Or give me one trial too much, 

And the toils of my road will seem noth- 
ing 
When e'er I receive his kind touch. 

When the last feeble step has been taken 
And the gates of the city appear. 

The beautiful songs of the angels 
Will float out on listening ears. 



FRANCES E. HARPER. 33 

Though now I am foot-sore and weary, 
I'll rest when I'm safely at home, 

I know I'll receive a glad welcome 
For the Saviour Himself has said : ' ' come. ' ' 

So when I am weary in body 
And sinking in spirit, I say, 

All the toils of the road will seem noth- 
ing 
When I get to the end of the way. 

Then I'll try to press hopefully on- 
ward. 
Thinking often through each weary day, 

The toils of the road will seem nothing 
When I get to the end of my way. 

Frances E. Harper. 

Tribute. 

Dear friend, to me one vision craved, 

Alas ! has been denied ; 
But thy strong words on page of book 

My mind anew inspires. 
Thy noble soul has lifted mine, 

As rippling waves are drawn ; 
My spirit heard thy words sublime, 

About the woman's dawn. 

3 



34 FRANCES E. HARPER. 

Some mysteries of Afric's race, 

Were left for thee to prove; 
Thy hicid voice, thy pen of grace, 

Filled up with hope and love — 
Woke the dead pulse of joy supreme, 

In our discouraged hearts. 
Dispells the long delusive dream. 

Makes new ambitions start. 

The rebels who pronounce us brutes. 

With conscience all at rest; 
Feel the great throb of Afric's truth, 

That stirs from out thy breast ; 
Maid of a higher, nobler cause. 

Thou queen of ancient night; 
Defender of the virtuous laws 

Of our young woman's rights. 

Thy name has spread like night's domain, 

When all her glittering lamps 
Illume the vast and level plains 

Into the peaceful camps — 
Where martyrs keep the righteous post 

Doubting our freedom yet. 
And speed the faithful, onward host, 

With eves on justice set. 



FRANCES E. HARPER. 35 

They are not dead, those who have died, 

Like holy angels come 
To mortals in their faithful strides 

For country, love and home; 
Thou knowest the psalms by sages 
wrought, 

Through shaky, mythic phrase; 
Thou nobler psalms than they have taught, 

Yet they have all the praise. 

The time wdll come when this great state, 

With conscience clear and true, 
Will feel the strain of human fate. 

Revealed to them by you ; 
And from her high esteemed estate, 

She will throw open wide 
The portal of her royal gate. 

So long to us denied. 

Continue in thy noble w^ork, 

O, faithful sister great. 
Until thv mind redeemingr words. 

Are spread in every state; 
Bring womanhood her honors due. 

Heal up these long disgraces ; 
The time has come when woman must 

March out and lead the races. 



YOICE FROM THE SOUTH. 

Cain and Abel. 

'*To thine ownself be true, 

And it must follow as the night the day, 

Thou canst not then be false to any man." 

Cain was not true to Abel, 

Neither true to himself. 
Because Abel was true to both. 

He put his brother to death. 

I think how many a hundred 

Of innocent Neofro men. 

Each trying to do like Abel, 
Have died his death since then. 



Voice From The South. 

To Mrs. Annie Julia Cooper. 

I read that book, "Voice from the South, 

I read it o'er again ; 
I re-read, heart leaped up to mouth 

At its triumphant aim. 

It 'rouses those noble feelings. 

Which partly are obscure ; 
It makes us see as we are seen. 

And fits us to endure. 



VOICE FROM THE SOUTH. 87 

It pictures a steadfast purpose, 

A brave and daring will, 
A human-needed promise that 

We hope the years will fill. 

Noble woman, grandly gifted. 
Sent to tell the world true facts; 

Sure the race will be uplifted 

By thy words, thy deeds, thy acts. 

Thy dauntless words are great and bold. 

At times they seem to be — 
Like John Brown's in dark slavery's days, 

While battling for the free. 

Earth's grandest hearts uplift to thee. 
They feel thy spreading fame ; 

And children that are yet to be 
Will '* hallowed be thy name." 

From thy book, those worthy pages, 
All our anxious hearts entreat ; 

All true trophies of the ages. 
Are enshrined at thy dear feet. 

Oh ! wished for, hoped for, happy time. 

When I can have the grace. 
To grasp thy hand, and more sublime, 

Upon th V statue gaze. 



VOICE FROM THE SOUTH. 

When e'er T 'tempt to write of thee, 
Love takes my thoughts away ; 

Thy dazzling fame makes all that flee, 
Which most I long to say. 

If thou hadst hearing in thy heart, 

To know how others beat; 
Then thou shouldst walk where'er thou art, 

Where throbbino^ millions o^reet. 

O ye w^hose noble, lucid pen, 

Forever filled with ink ; 
To touch the hearts and minds of men, 

And make whole nations think. 

It may be that in this cold world, 

You will be ostracised 
For noble truths which you have hurled 

At those who right despise. 

But Christ was ostracised by men. 

He conquered every one ; 
Brave Luther faced the Papal den, 

And he the victory won. 

So while within this vale of tears, 
Where sins and woes are rife; 

Thy words will prove, in coming years, 
The gift of mortal life. 



VOICE FROM THE SOUTH, 39 

Since we are scattered as a race, 
And thou hast power to write ; 

While God prolongs thy days of grace, 
Cry to the race ''unite.*' 

Thou hast been writing, noble one, 

Thou dost not write in vain ; 
Thy words, methink, are pressing on, 

They shall be entertained. 

Thy writing has a dwelling place. 

Above this lynching ken; 
We hope thy spirit will never trace 

Such wicked haunts of men. 

In some far off diviner land, 

There stands a giant Mast; 
It waves to you a cheering hand, 

From heroes of the past. 

Thy 'lectric voice, whose strong control. 

As with an angel's breiith 
Can stir the fountain of the soul. 

And cheer the long bereft. 

Write on. and may thy words still strike 
The conscience of the nation ; 

Aid show that all men are alike. 
And have been since creation. 



40 BISHOP PAYNE. 

Bishop Daniel A. Payne. 

(Deceased). 
He has gone forth in the light of light, 
Out of the long watch and the heavy night, 
Out of the life that was so hard to bear. 
Crowded by sorrow and perplexed by care. 

Love was the life which pulsed his being 

through, 
No task too hard, if set by love to do. 
No pain too sharp, if love called to endure, 
No weariness he knew if love was true. 

Heaven has received him as a welcome guest, 
Balming earth's tie with compensating rest, 
Healing earth's grievous wound with sure 

content, 
The sense of home after long banishment. 

But more to him than smile of vanished kin, 
Or hands outstreched to greet and draw him 

in. 
Or "bonded walls" of amethyst unpriced 
Is the clear vision of the face of Christ. 

The face divine, which, in his boyhood days. 
Seeing he loved and never looked away, 
Which, like a star in the dim firmament. 
Guided his steps and moved where' er h e went . 



DOUGLASS DEADf 41 

Out of the life that was not always sweet, 
Out of the puzzle and the day's defeat, 
Out of earth's hindering and alien zone. 
The Lord of love has led him to his own. 



Douglass Dead? 

Across the nation's broad domain. 
On every hill, and every plain, 
Peals out the muffled, sad refrain, 
That Douglass is dead. 

O no, not dead ! for every heart 
In every state must surely start 
As freedom's great, uprising mart. 
If Douglass is detid ! 

And far across the deep blue sea, 
Those nations that love liberty. 
Their minds will be a mournful lea, 
For Douglass' death. 

Once freedom's great, uprising host, 
From Maine to California's coast, 
Of this great man could truly boast, 
And now he's dead! 



42 THE EASTER MAN, 

In every heart of all the race, 

He'll ever have a sacred place. 

His name can never be erased, 

He is not dead! 

He's with Lincoln, John Brown, Grant, 
With Bishop Payne and Price he chants, 
With such surround inof host we can't 
Sav he is dead I 



The Easter Man* 

So crushed by sinful oppression, 
Through the ages long and drear, 

Men began to doubt and question, 
Whether Shiloh would appear. 

The Jewish doctors pondered. 
And Gentile sages dreamed. 

While on their weary vision 
No assuring light yet gleamed. 

But while time's dial was still moving, 

God, in a mysterious vvay. 
Let man go in his wonder. 

He knew the time and the day. 



TEE EASTER MAN. . 43 

And the Watchman he stood mourning, 
Over Judah's seer that day; 

As up on Bethlehem's hillside, 
They wound their weary way. 

And the watchman cried "O Israel, 

How long are we to stand, 
Under the great oppressor's yoke, 

To be moved by Shiloh's hand?" 

When heaven and earth were silent. 
When the Lord's will would be done, 

The cry went from out Bethlehem, 
'* A man child there is born." 

Then burst the rapturous anthem ; 

*' Glory to God be given, 
Good will among the sons of Men 

Peace on earth and in heaven." 

While there in his manger cradle, 
The unconscious monarch lay. 

The babe of Bethlehem now born, 
To have universal sway. 

The human sea became restless, 
Earth's kingdoms began to shake, 

And the universal cry was 

"Never man like that man spake.'* 



44 . THE EASTER MAN. 

When He began his active work, 
For three long toilsome years, 

He climbed degradation's mountain, 
Wadino^ throuo-h heart-aches and tears. 

But Jesus buried these sorrows, 
Knowing the world had its share ; 

He opened a crystal fountain, 
To wash away sinful snares. 

The more he spread his mission, 
The more he became despised, 

He forgave men this wickedness, 
And yet he was crucified. 

Nineteen centuries have passed and gone, 
Since '* it is finished" was cried. 

Every day during that time. 
The Savior's been crucified. 

If we ask ourselves the question, 
*' Why crucify one so dear?" 

Our hearts will respond full sadly, 
*' The answer is not here." 

The still, small voice from Calvary 
Cries " I did all this for thee," 

And from the ear of faith we hear, 
** What art thou doing for me." 



THE EASTER MAN. 45 

Silence reigned in Jerusalem, 
Men became bothered in mind, 

Questions were asked about Jesus, 
To answer wise men declined. 

On that lovely Easter morning, 
Mary and others came near, 

The angel solved the mystery, 
'' He's risen, He is not here." 

He spent forty days sojourning. 
To many he made himself known. 

He told of a city called Heaven, 

Entreated them to make it their home. 

He melted down satan's mansions. 
He made intercession for man. 

He gave his peace to the nations. 
And gave the disciples command. 

And then along the silent path. 

By viewless spirits trod. 
He left the blights of this sad earth. 

And went to dwell with God. 

Gates of Heaven all stood ajar. 
Bells of Heaven were ringing. 

Angels stood around the gate. 
Waiting, watching, singing. 



46 THE EASTER MAN. 

And as the Savior entered in, 
Tiiey did not close the view, 

But left the gate standing ajar 
That we might enter too. 

Heaven's orchestra uttered aloud, 
"Worthy the Lamb that was slain 

To receive honor, glory, power. 
Blessings, world without end." 

For every thorn that gave a wound, 
A rose in Heaven was given. 

And joy, that there no roses found 
With rosy wreaths were riven. 

In paradise where breezes blow. 
To cool the heart's hot fever, 

The pangs and pain He felt below. 
Were waft away forever. 



To look at Thee, O Lord, as Thou art. 
From this mortal perishing clay. 

The spirit immortal in peace would de- 
part, 
And joyous mount up her bright way. 



MAN'S IMPEUFECriONS. 47 

I know our stained tablets must first be 
washed white, 
To let Thy bright features be drawn. 
We know we must suffer the darkness of 
night, 
To welcome the coming of dawn. 

But we shall be satisfied when we can 
cast 

The shadow of nature all by, 
When the cold, heavy world from our 
vision has passed 

To let the soul open her eye. 
We come together in Easter service, 

To sing praises unto His name. 
Let every day be Easter in which 

We will sing His praises the same. 



Man's Imperfections. 

O life why so imperfect? 

And life cried in elation, 
Don't fault my God nor me correct, 

But man and his ovation. 



48 MY SWEETHEART. 

The little bird enjoys his life, 
The ant improves his time ; 

Its only man's abusive strife, 
That wrecks this holy clime. 

The rippling stream goes swiftly by. 
The plants grow undistubed; 

And onh^ man tills life with sighs, 
And makes crime reign superb. 

The sun and moon and stars are bright. 
This earth's a paradise; 

But man stands in his own sunlight, 
As imperfection's vice. 



My Sweetheart. 

I went to bed the other night. 
My sleep was sweet in part ; 

I dreamed I saw a lovely sight. 
It was my dear sweetheart. 

She sat in the window watching, 
As I wjnt down the street; 

I threw a kiss back to her. 

Her face seem'd blossom sweet. 



MY SWEETHEART. 49 

My sweetheart's image was with me, 

Whichever way I went, 
It banished all temptations. 

And gave me good intent. 
When the world seems full of trouble, 

When things seem to go wrong: 
My sweetheart's image is with me, 

And makes me brave and strong. 

T return'd by early twilight. 
And as I latched the gate ; 

I saw from the shaded window, 
My sweetheart still did wait. 

I hastened toward the window, 

I saw my sweetheart's eyes 
Sparkle with a smiling welcome. 

As the stars up in the skies, 
'^'m back again, dear sweetheart," 

I said, and stoop'd to kiss 
My sweetheart' s face thatwas lifted. 

It seem'd that all was bliss. 

You all have sweethearts like this one. 
Babies, sisters and brothers ; 

This sweetheart gives us lots of fun. 
My sweetheart was my mother. 



50 



LINCOLN'S CALL 



What do you think of my sweetheart? 

I shall not go any further; 
Can you blame a boy my size because 

He's dead in love with mother? 



The angel who unfetter' d St. Peter, 
When bound in Jerusalem's jail ; 

Is no greater than the angel Lincoln 
Who heeded the Negro's wail. 




LINCOLN'S CALL. 51 

And never in all ages, 

Since John on Patnius wrote; 

Have words been put on pages 
As great as Lincoln spoke. 



Lincoln's CalL 

You know 'twas eighteen sixty-one, 
The civil war had just begun, 
The ship of state was at the place, 
To picture up the South's disgrace; 
And Lincoln quickly saw the point, 
Where he could knock things out of joint ; 
And all the sight which he had seen. 
Before his mind beo^an to orleam. 
He thought of countless human slaves, 
Murdered, buried without a grave; 
He thought of the wicked overseer. 
Whose cruelty could have no peer; 
He thought of the master's snarling cry — 
**That Negro's worthless, let him die." 
He thought of the Southern auction block. 
Where human beings sold as stock ; 
He thought of mother's wailing cry. 
When wicked men her child would bu}' ; 
He thought how cruel they could be, 



LINCOLN'S CALL. 

To counteract the mother's plea; 

He thoughthow men were sold like mules, 

And left their wives with wicked fools; 

He thought of Christian mother's weep, 

To see her child drove off like sheep; 

He thought of mother's vain distress, 

To have a babe sold from her breast ; 

And worst of all since God's creation, 

He thought of that abomination — 

Amalgamation of the races. 

On terms that sive us blushino^ faces; 

He thought of masters who had slaves, 

Whose virtue they would often crave ; 

And she, no matter how she feel. 

To master's wicked lust must yield; 

These sights as dark as dark midnight, 

Made angels shudder in their flight; 

The goddess of the angry deep, 

These horrors made her conscience weep; 

The gladiator drop'd his sword, 

At sight of Southern festive boards. 

Diana said with heart aglow. 

Such sights have never reign'd before; 

These thino^s weitrhed Lincoln'sheart with 

grief, 
And when the nation made him chief — 



LINCOLN'S CALL. 53 

He gave a long, tremendous call, 
From out the nation's senate hall. 
And all the North heard his appeal, 
And marched out on the battle field; 
The Pilgrim Fathers, dead and gone, 
Pushed brave New England in the throng. 
Good William Penn said from his grave: 
*'My Quakers join the Lincoln wave." 
The father of the country said — 
" March on, it is the rightful tread!" 
The heroes of Thermopylae 
Heard Lincoln's call for liberty. 
And cried from out their distant graves, 
''If you must die, men's freedom save." 
Crispus Attucks, whose blood ran down. 
When Washington was in renown, 
His blood cried out *'if you'd be free, 
All strike at once for liberty !" 
Sojourner Truth, her voice was heard, 
*' March on !" was the commanding w^ord, 
Nat Turner screamed out from the sod ; 
*' I would thou precious, all wise God, 
Had spared my life upon the land 
To follow Lincoln's brave command. 
Then I could quickly do my part, 
For poor down-trodden, human hearts. 



54 LINCOLN'S CALL. 

I'd help to strike that mighty blow, 

To let my bonclaged people go ! " 

John Brown's bleeding body cried: 

"This is the cause for which I died!" 

Frederick Douglass, grand old man, 

Who aided John Brown in his plans, 

Who stood with Lincoln and conversed, 

Was ready now to stand the worst. 

He used his voice, his pen, his mind, 

And men who heard him fell in line. 

These voices echoed Lincoln's sound. 

And stin-ed the people all around ; 

From Maine to California's coast. 

Rose freedom's o^reat advancing; host. 

Men speaking in the senate hall, 

Responded to the noble call ; 

The Gov'nors left the state affairs, 

The writer left his easy chair, 

The lawyer quit the city bar, 

And left his office door ajar; 

The bus'ness man went out his store, 

Perhaps to enter there no more ; 

The teacher left his tutorship. 

And gave his gun a lasting grip. 

The student left his study desk, 

And marched with teacher breast abreast, 



L7NC0L^'S CALL. 55 

The hunter left the stag at bay, 
For Lincoln's call he must obey; 
" The plow was in the furrow staid, 
The herds without a keeper stray 'd," 
The iish'man left his pole and line, 
The blacksmith drop'd his red hot iron. 
The artist let go paint and brush, 
And to the arniy made a rush. 
Husbands kissed their wives good-bye. 
Left the children, went to die; 
Mothers told sons to heroes be, 
In the cause of liberty; 
The young man in the prime of life. 
Left his newly wedded wife ; 
The lover left his loved one's side 
Whom he had vowed to make his bride. 
He loved his girl with all his heart. 
But country's love was now his part; 
Each son and father rushed to arms. 
At Lincoln's signals of alarm. 
The war began, brave Lincoln stood. 
As pilot in the human flood ; 
Again he made a long appeal, 
More men were needed in the field. 
His voice was heard all o'er the land, 
A million men obeyed command. 



56 LINCOLN'S CALL. 

At Gettysburg, brave Lincoln stood, 
And he was in a better mood ; 
He saw the cause for which he fought, 
Was phiin before the people brought; 
And on that bloody battlefield, 
The enemies began to yield; 
And Lincoln, with his God push'd pen, 
Wrote these words on the hearts of men : 
"All human beings claimed as slaves — 
Are placed upon great freedom's wave." 
And angels echoed around the throne ; 
"Rejoice thy freedom is thy own !" 
The Negro left his master's farm, 
For he had heard the last alarm, ^ 

But half in doubt and half in stress, 
He wondered which would be the best — 
" If massa ketch me gwine away^ 
He'll kill dis nigger shw as day ; 
But whats de use to stay back herr. 
He's killing niggers ehry yerr, 
Boss Lincoln says dat I am free, 
ril strike a blow for liberty!'' 
He marched out like a soldier man, 
And joined the host of freedom's van. 
The war moved on for two more years. 
And brave men fought without a fear. 



LINCOLN'S CALL. 57 

Till Sherman's host had reached the sea, 
And Grant had captured noble Lee, 
Then men laid down their arms of yore. 
And peace did reign from shore to shore. 
Now Lincoln's work was bravely done, 
The confidence of Men he'd won. 
His enemies he'd conquered well, 
And they before him prostrate fell. 
He'd kept the faith, he'd fought hisfight, 
And in the stillness of the night — 
When he least look'd for any strife, 
A demon struck him for his life. 
He fell a corpse to mortal man,^ 
In this down trodden, sinful land; 
His soul had heard the angel's cry ; 
"Thy work's complete, thy home's on 

high," 
So when the general roll is called. 
Including, Wickliffe, Luther, Paul ; 
Men who hiive died to set men free, 
Lincoln's name on the list will be. 
And men who dwell, upon the earth. 
Will yet concede to Lincoln's worth, 
And burn his birthday in the minds, 
Of children 'till the end of time. 
As long as there remains a trace 



58 HUlUtAlI POR McKlNLEY! 

Of Afric blood in iiiortal face, 
80 long will Lincoln honored be, 
His virtues sung from sea to sea. 



Hurrah for McKiiiley! 

Hurrah for McKinley ! 

Hurrah for Hobart ! 
And the St. Louis convention 

That didn't mind revolts, 
We have rallied round the flag boys, 

Rallied once again, 
Hear the cry of freedom and McKinley . 

Hurrah for New England ! 

Hurrah for Illinois ! 
New York, Pennsylvania, 

And all the other boys 
Who have rallied, etc. 

Hurrah for sound money ! 

Hurrah for protection— 
That sends free silver 

Where there'll be no resurrection, 
M^e will rally, etc. 



BURR AH F'OR Md^lNL^T! 59 

Hurrah for the nation ! 

How it rings from sea to sea, 
That McKinlej is elected 

Which insures prosperity. 
We have rallied, etc. 

Hurrah ! how McKinley 

Broke the Mason-Dixon line, 

Boys, the solid South is broken. 
And shall be till end of time. 

We have rallied, etc. 

Hurrah for McKinley ! 

Who's in Abe Lincoln's track, 
Who believed that a gentleman, 

Can be either white or black. 
Let us rally, etc. 

Hurrah for McKinley ! 

Who called upon his state, 
To help keep a Negro 

From the dreadful lynching fate. 
Negroes rally, etc. 

Hurrah for McKinley ! 

Who said he'd have no wine, 
And those at the inaugural 

To drink had to decline. 
Temperance rally, etc. 



eo THE CALL ALL MUST OBEY, 

The Call All Must Obey. 

A voice whispered to an infant, 
Sitting on its mother's knees, 
** Leave that pUice for a moment, 
I want you to go with me," 
*' How can I leave my mamma's hip. 
And do without her sweet smiles. 
How can I live without her aid?" 
Replied the innocent child. 

The same voice whispered to a child. 
Who knew not the right from wrong, 
" Comechild, leave} our play for awhile, 
And join this mighty throng," 
The child replied in earnest tones, 
*' 1 cannot go with you now — 
You see what I have here to do. 
My play house is all torn down." 

*' Come," said the stern voice to a youth, 

While plodding along his w^ay. 

And many youths were with him there, 

All cheerful and full of plliy . 

**How can I come," replied the youth, 

*' I'm hastening on to school, 

And if I'm late," my mother says, 

*'Its agjainst the teacher's rule." 



THE CALL ALL MU 1ST OBEY. 61 

"Come," the voice said to a maid, 
Just in her twentieth year. 
While men were passing too and fro, 
Some in hope and some in fear; 
"How can I come," replied the maid, 
"While all of life's temptations 
Surround my head, and I must be 
A factor to the nation." 

The voice approached a bright young man 
Just entering the prime of life, 
"Come," said the voice, theyoungman 

stopped. 
As if in a human strife. 
"How can I come? My days are brief. 
The responsibility 
That rests upon my shoulders, 
Is spread from sea to sea." 

The voice then sought a poet's abode, 

Who was seeking after a rhyme, 

And the poet had an answer 

Both elusive and sublime. 

" How can you ask for me to come, 

Leave me to myself I pray. 

For the verse which I am writing 

The hearts of men will sway." 



62 THE CALL ALL MUST QBE T. 

'*Come," said the voice to a songster 
As she raised her alto voice, 
And the music sent forth by her, 
Made the hearts of men rejoice. 
**Hovv can I come," said the songster, 
''This workl is sinking in sin. 
And I am to sing God's mercies 
Into the hearts of men." 



"Come," said the voice to a statesman. 

While speaking in the senate hall. 

And his voice aroused the senate 

Like troops at a bugle call. 

''How can I come," said the statesman. 

While our dear ship of state, 

Is hanging, trembling, weakening. 

At the sight of future fate?" 

'*Come," said the voice to a mother, 

With her children at her side. 

And she made the home a haven. 

For her husband to abide. 

"Oh, I can't come," the mother said, 

" I pray you let me st^iy, 

For how can I leave my darlings 

To wander from me astray?" 



THE CALL ALL MVbT CLEY. 63 

The voice sent out no more appeals, 

The baby left its mother, 

The child with a torn down play house 

Didn't stop to build another; 

Theyouth, returning home from school, 

Responded to the call. 

And the maiden with her beauty 

Had to enter in the thrall. 

And the young man meditated. 
For he was just in his prime. 
But he joined the great procession 
When the voice called, it was time; 
And the poet, with his meekness. 
Had to quit his composition ; 
For the voice had called him hither. 
It was due a recognition. 

The songster's voice was heard no more. 
The world still had its sins. 
The statesman left the senate floor. 
And was heard no more by men ; 
And the mother left her children, 
And they cried with sobbing breath. 
But the voice which spoke — men must 

obey. 
It was the voice of death. 



64 HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. 

Harriet Beecher Stowe's Works. 

*♦ Uncle Tom's Cabin." 

That grand and noble woman dear, 

Called Harriet Beecher Stowe, 
The book she wrote without a fear 

Drove slavery from our shore. 
To know her works, to feel her worth, 

Go read that noble book 
And see what dauniless words she wrote, 

What fearful risk^ she took. 

It struck a blow to slavery's tree, 

That burned its very life; 
It scorched the undergrowth around, 

And left it in a strife ; 
It parched the branches to a crisp, 

Withered the leaves in twain, 
It drove the sap into the ground 

To never rise ao^ain. 

Dark slavery rested on the base, 

That Africans were brutes, 
That they should be a white man's slave 

Or dwell in destitute; 
It said his sensibility 

Was not of human kind. 
And if he loved, 'twas not the love 

Which with the heart combines. 



HARRIET BE EG II ER STOWE. 65 

And hence the children could be sold, 

Husband and wife untied. 
And with a mind all full of glee, 

In distant parts abide; 
No matter what the master did 

To slaves who were akin, 
'Twas just the same as with a mule. 

The master didn't sin. 

These doctrines were supported by 

Religion, law and science, 
The preacher who preached otherwise. 

Was held up in defiance; 
The surgeon tauo^ht that Nesi^ro flesh 

Under the whip and knife. 
Was not affected like white men. 

Hence 'twas not human strife. 

Politicians said that it was 

Fixed as the lasting hills. 
And God considered it as pure 

As nature's rippling rills; 
The statesman, judge and governor 

Said that it was a rule, 
The Negro slave should have the same 

As oxen, horse and mule. 

5 



HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. 

Men divine, wrote book upon book, 

P\)rcing restitution, 
And tried to prove that slavery was 

A God sent institution. 
To speak, to w^ite, to think against 

This inhumanity. 
Was nothing but a case of what 

Was called insanity. 

It was at such a time as this 

That Harriet Beecher Stowe, 
Called "Uncle Tom" upon the scene. 

And made him walk before 
The gaze of all the countries 'round. 

She made him speak and cry, 
In twent}^ different languages 

She made him pray and sigh. 

She then asked all the world who heard 

His wild distressing prayer. 
If 'twas not likely that a heart 

Humane is stationed there; 
She brought forth George and showed his 
grand 

Affections for his wife. 
His love for liberty, and how 

He fought the slavish strife. 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 67 

She brought Haley, the Negro trader, 

Who had no human heart, 
Who stole the virtue of his slaves, 

And then the lash impart ; 
Who took a newly wedded wife 

Before her husband's gaze. 
Could the devil have seen all this, 

He w^ould have stood amazed. 

She then showed forth the Christian heart 

Of Mister Shelby's wife. 
Who sympathized with all the slaves 

In their discouraged strife ; 
Who wept when she first heard the news 

From her dear husband bold. 
When she asked where was Uncle Tom, 

He said " the brute is sold." 

These things and hundreds, thousands more. 

This noble book had shown, 
And there stood Harriet Beecher Stowe, 

Between pulpit and throne ; 
'She stood nearer the Throne of (jod. 

Than all false priests before. 
And turned the search light on to show 
• The heartache and the woe. 



68 HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. 

She wrote brave words and spead them, 

Upon the human breeze, 
That made pro-slav'ry clergymen. 

Draw in their breath and sneeze ; 
Her shafts were sent hilt deep into 

The tender, human heart. 
Just like the shepherd boy who smote 

The giant with his dart. 

This book had made the world grow mad, 

With slavery and its crime. 
Before the bloody battlefield. 

With marching tread did chime ; 
Before John Brown had died to save, 

Before great Lincoln's call. 
Before brave Sherman reached the sea, 

Before Grant captured all. 

She called from out its slumb'ring tomb. 

Affections of the soul. 
She armed them with eternal light, 

And sent them forth so bold 
Against the greed, the gain, the lust. 

That these two forces fouo^ht. 
Like Wolfe and Montcalm on the plain. 

Till ritrht had error wrought. 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 69 

Harriet Beecher Stowe's Monument. 

She has builded a human monument 
The walk of which will stand, 

Long after she's departed from 
The dwellers in the land, 

Long after buildings have crumbled. 
That are planted on the sand. 

She decided to build for others, 

And the building sheltered her not, 

And some who dwell within there, 
Through all time shall know her not, 

And beneath the roof of the building 
She'll have no lot or part. 

And yet when the days shall have ended, 
And beneath the roof tree's shade, 

The children and grand children, 
In childish ways have played, 

And passed from under the building. 
And vanished into the shade; 

Some dweller beneath the building. 
Thinking of when it was new. 

May say as his heart turns backward. 
Keeping his age in view. 

The woman who built this building, 
Builded better than she knew\ 



70 SONNET— OCTOBER, 

And she, though she has passed onward, 

Hearing the Master's ctill, 
May say, though it may not matter 

To her what the building befall, 
That it's better to build for others, 

Than to have no building at all. 



Sonnet, October. 

Here in sweet Nature's lonely gale, 

The leaves are gone ; 
The autumnal woods, all 'round our vale, 

Have glory on. 

I roam these woods that nature crowns 

With splendor's glow; 
Where the company of trees look down 

On fields below. 

This month is the gloomiest and saddest 

Of all the year ; 
For in it nature's summer gladness 

All disappear. 

Nature all around serene elates 

Us from the sod ; 
And points the heart and mind of man. 

Towards the throne of God. 



MAC EO— CUBA'S LIBERATOR. 



71 




Maceo— Cuba's Liberator. 



While Washington at Valley Forge, 
Endured the winter's pest; 

And while he was taking Yorktown 
Dear Cuba was oppressed. 



72 MA(nW CUBA'S LrBiniATOR. 

When Kn<rlaiHl tried the second time, 
To rule this (country great: 

Brave Cuba, although in her i)rinie, 
Had not a shi}) of state. 

When WinMeld S(H)tt took Mexico, 

And ea[)tur(Ml Vera Cruz, 
Brave (/uha and young Maceo 

Were punished and abused. 

When John Brown died that we might 
live, 

Wlic^n Lincoln called for men; 
Braver (/uba was surroundcul with 

The untold Spanish sins. 

When Grant and Meade fouglit for dear 
life, 
When Lincoln sard '^you're free," 
Brave ('uba, under Spanish strife, 
Said '*give meliberty?" 

Thus time moved on, (Jod was invoked. 
And year succeeded year; 

Brave Cubji fought — sometime with 
hope, 
And sometime full of fear. 



MAOfiJO-CUlLVS LinEltATOn. 73 

But (lod who's jilwjiys here with men, 

Had Hi in a man in store; 
And at the heio^hts of Spanish sins, 

He calkHl forth Maceo. 

When Maceo with courage strong 
Took charge of battle ti(;lds ; 

Like withered leaves in wintry storms, 
The enemies did yield. 

He gave this dauntless, })rave command, 

*' We must have lilx^rty — 
And in the name of (irod and man. 

Our Cuba must be free!" 

At this a|)[)eal the Island shook. 
The natives said they would; 

And Maceo with anxious looks, 
As firm as fossils stood. 

The natives all were 'lectrified, 

At sight of Maceo's form ; 
And they would stand and do or die, 

At Maceo's alarm. 

The Spaniards, anxious to succecnl, 

Discarded warring rules; 
Hesorted to the foulest deeds, 

Of all the crim'nal schools. 



74 MAC^O— CUBA'S LlBEUATOn. 

ripey used man's wicked, cunning ways, 
They gave him friend's salute; 

Ihey falsified to ambush him, 
They took his life like brutes. 

But e'er he died he told his men. 

That Cuba nuist be free ; 
The death he died has given them 

The price of liberty. 

Arnold became his country's foe, 
Judas betrayed his Christ; 

The Spaniards entrapped Maceo 
At manhood's sacrifice. 

They crucified the Son of man, 
His cause still moves the world; 

They burned John Huss and yet he stands, 
Before us as a pearl. 

They killed good Abr'am Lincoln, 

The cause for which he died 
Still moves the world, still cheers men's 
hearts, 

With men he still abides. 
They killed the noble Maceo, 

The world's in sympathy; 
Tt says that foul Hct implores 

That Cuba nuist be free. 



r. M. C. A, FOUNDER. "l^ 

The God of Israel's Maceo, 

Of Lincoln's liberty. 
Has written "let my people go," 

Dear Cuba shall be free. 

Dear Cuba, for a host of years, 

"Queen of the Antilles," 
Thy Maceo without a fear. 

Has died to set thee free. 



Y. M. C. A, Founder. 

Sir Geo. Williams. 

Sir George Williams, noble man, 
Half 'cent'ry 've passed away. 
Since thou first didst raise thy hand 
To start the Y. M. C. A. 

One little room marked the spot, 
A few common chairs therein ; 
And now all o'er the universe. 
Its siftint? the souls of men. 

A few young men, only a few. 
Paid any heed to thee, 
Today thou'rt heard in all the lands, 
Thou'i-t spread from sea to sea. 



76 r. M. C. A. FOUNDER, 

I think how many a thousand, 
Of reckless, wayward men, 
Have caught the inspiration, 
And moved off from their sins. 

I think of countless mothers. 
Whose hearts have leaped with joy. 
Because this, thy noble work, 
Has saved their reckless boy. 

I think of unborn millions. 
Who yet must take the stage, 
Who, only through this noble work 
Can face the future age. 

" Forever and forever, 
As long as life has woes," 
Thy name shall be re-echoed 
On time's terrestrial shores. 

If only I might see thee, 

To gaze upon thy face, 

To grasp thy hand, to hear thee speak, 

Then I could be embraced. 

I think I could go forward. 
With brave and joyful heart, 
Though every step should pierce me, 
With untold fierv dart. 



BEST THING IN THE WORLD. 77 

But I must be contented, 
With thy likeness and thy name, 
For countless millions now rejoice, 
Upon thy spreading fame. 

And I am left to wonder, such 
That I may stretch my hand, 
To some still wearier traveler 
In this same shadow land. 

I gaze upon thy likeness, 
As young men's earthly sage, 
Thy work is old and thriving, 
But thou show'st not thy age. 

bear sir, thou art not old. 
Though half a century now, 
May write its ragged wrinkles, 
Up and down thy brow. 

And even sorrow may with 
A shroud thy heart enfold, 
Thou art not now, and no, 
Thou never will be old. 



Best Thing in the World. 

What is the best thing in the world? 
This question to a crowd was hurled. 



78 BEST THING IN THE MOULD. 

A preacher said *'that grand old Book 
Which beats all men e'er undertook." 

The monk, he said, *'the best of all. 
Is time alone within my walls."' 

The sage, he whispered in a chime, 
"The best is the right use of time." 

The fool and idler both did sing, 
"Pleasure is the best of things." 

Then the soldier cried aloud, "fame," 
Spoke the statesman, "mine is the same." 

Then a maid told her selection, 
"Why of course its my complexion." 

Said a young man, "there are two things, 
A woman's beauty, and how she sings." 

A mother, playing with some curls. 
Said that "the best thing in the world; 

Is this darling here in my arms. 
Which we and angels hold as charms." 

Then the wee baby gave its choice. 
And it seemed like an angel's voice; 

"The bes ting dat eber was or is. 
Is when my mama dives me a tiss." 



FROM BEGRADATION TO EDi^CATION. 79 

Conscience whispers and this is heard, 
"Kindness, kindness, that is the word." 



From Degradation Throiig:h 

Supplication to Education, 

The Negro. 

I was once far from civilization. 
As vile as a Negro could be ; 
I wondered if all the creation, 
Could save a poor Negro like me. 

I wandered on in the darkness, 
Not a ray of light could I see; 
And it filled my heart with sadness. 
No hope for a Negro like me. 

But by the wondrous work of God, 
The world's second Moses came; 
And through the sea of civil strife, 
Brought liberty instead of shame. 

From then I started out in life, 
To nuike a race pride mark ; 
But prejudice from my enemies. 
Kept holding me in Ihe dark. 



80 FROM DEGRADATION TO EDUCATION. 

And yet within that self same race, 
There are some valiant men; 
Who gave both their time and means, 
To remove this dreadful sin. 

My enemies both reared and kicked, 
I could only wait and trust; 
But good men defended my cause. 
Like Doctors Hartzell and Rust. 

"Shall the Negro be educated?" 
Is being discussed by some ; 
But while they are discussing, 
The orood work's beino^ done. 

No longer in darkness I wander. 
Education is shining on me; 
And unto my brothers I'm trying, 
To give an education free. 

Dear Lord, I'll e'er give thanks to Thee, 
For Thy unspeakable gift, 
In bringing me out of darkness. 
And allowing a chance to lift. 

And with my thanks I ask Thy aid, 
For those in degradation, 
That they may share e'en with me. 
In Christian education. 



THE MODEL GIRL. 81 

The Model Girl. 

ToS 

A model o^irl, pure from her birth, 
No one ciin estimate her worth, 
And on this dark and sinful earth — 
She's needed 

She sroes to church and Sunday school, 
The Bible is her vestibule. 
And fam'ly prayers, her mother's rule — 
She loves them. 

She always tries to do the risfht. 
And if you try to blur andblis^ht. 
She'll hit you with the Christian light — 
She's candid. 

Sometimes, before shethinks, she speaks. 
You know in this a woman's weak. 
But if you will explain the freak — 
She'll listen. 

And if she sees immoral trash, 
She treats it very cool and rash, 
And all her soul seems in a flash — 
She shuns it. 



82 THE MODEL GIRL. 

She knows the evils of the land, 
She knows the wicked ways of man, 
She takes a high and lofty stand — 
She dreads them. 

She knows if woman stands aloft. 
The wicked men will scorn and scoff. 
And yet when they desire betroth — 
She charms them. 

She knows that if she mingles low, 
The evil class will treat her so. 
And those who tr}^ to upward soar — 
Will shun her. 

She's never wrecked herself at all. 
At these low dissipating balls 
AVhere women dance and virtue falls- 
She scorns them. 

She never goes in public places. 
Where men and women's evil faces 
Are ever lookinoj for disorraces — 
She fears them. 

She never t?trolls the streets alone. 
Whene'er the sun has ceased to roam 
And all the stars so brightl}^ shone — 
She waives it. 



THE MODEL GIRL. 83 

When men put on an outside show, 
To see if woman won't adore, 
While to virtue his heart's a foe — 
She's vex-ed. 

She gives pleasure a reverent touch, 
She never tries to know too much 
Of foolishness, gab and all such — 
She's seen these. 

Pure literature attracts her eyes, 
Trash novels she detests, despise. 
She sees the future, hears its cries — 
"Protect us!" 

She knows contentment is decay. 
That discontent brings brighter days 
By men and women's thriving ways — 
She's busy. 

She knows that early fragrance flees, 
The deepest cup hath still its lees. 
And she thinks there's a "yet to be" — 
She's hopeful. 

She sometimes walks in slip'ry places. 
But pride with all its charming graces, 
Makes all the evil-minded faces — 
Kespect her. 



84 THE MODEL GIRL. 

Sometimes her mind is fluctuation, 
Sometimes her soul is detestation, 
Sometimes her heart is admiration — 
She usurps. 

You see her as she skips along. 
She has not thought of any wrong, 
She'sfirmforright, well tried and strong — 
She's dauntless. 

She never has that vain belief 
That someone's watching her as chief 
• And asking every one in brief — 
'*VVho is she?" 

There's a secret she calls her own, 
A myst'ry to most young girls unknown, 
And 'gainst the outside worldly tone — 
It cheers her. 

She knows the rock once cleft for all. 
She stands where'er its shadows fall, 
And when she leans upon its walls — 
She's strengthened. 

It makes the blessed Savior smile 
To see a trusty, faithful child 
Go through the world pure, undefilfd-- 
She knows it. 



TUE MODEL GTRL. 85 

The eye may try to be a charm, 
But from the heart's imperhil throng, 
Come penciled lines of right and wrong — 
She's cautious. 

Time'setching gives her tone of thought, 
God's etching shows divinely bought 
Soul stenciled by the spirit taught — 
She's fix-ed. 

Her sisters all should imitate, 
Her brothers should appreciate. 
Her father should reconsecrate — 
And mother. 

I hope her Christian spirit bold 
Will dwell where summer seasons roll, 
And cheerful hearts will ne'er grow old — 
She'll like it. 

And when time's clouds have all gone by, 
And she has quit the world of sighs, 
I hope the place beyond the skies — 
Will take her. 

Now some of you who read these lines, 
May try to form within your minds. 
The reason why I write this rhj^me — 
I like her. 



86 THE MODEL GfliL. 

Well I guess that it must be true, 
And if you knew her as I do, 
I think you'd kinder like her too- 
8he earns it. 



Oh, somewhere in this shadowed land, 

A host of shining angels stand; 

Somewhere the sun is shining bright, 

And hearts are made of burdens, light; 

Somewhere the little children shout 

And walk the streets, their hearts are stout; 

Somewhere the evil hearts of men 

That tempt the little ones to sin 

Are counted as a wicked shame, 

And wicked men will be refrained — 

From doing evil, dirty work. 

Which, frou) the young ones, virtue jerk ; 

Somewhere good people congregate 

And leave off those who dissipate 

And make them have a strong desire 

To (|uit their w.iys and come up higher: 

Somewhere young men appreciate 

The girl who shuns all future fates; 

Somewhere orood deeds are recoernized. 

And virtue coufttccl as a prize; 



LOVE'S LABOR LOST. 87 

Somewhere the angels hover 'round 
To dedicate the earthly town 
Because it tries to do the right 
And keep the Lord's will e'er in sight; 
Oh, somewhere there's security 
To live a life of purity, — 
Not our town. 



Love's Labor Lost. 

Sweetheart, you know what true love is, 
You know we have loved each other, 
You know that we have sometimes felt 
As near as sister and brother. 

You know, my dear, the time has been 
When to be in each other's sight 
And to talk, and hear each other talk 
To both our hearts was delio^ht. 

You know it has not been so long 
Since we, in saying good night 
Would fondly hug and kiss each other. 
Oh my ! what a change tonight ! 

Can it be true that some one else 
Has entered into your heart, 
And tells me thut from this time on 
I shall have no lot or part? 



DECEPTTON. 



Can it be true that all my love, 
Of which I so proudly boast, 
Is drift-wood on the restless sea 
And niv task, *' Love's labor lost ?" 



Deception . 

Well, dearest one, I hope my heart 

Will stop its bitter sigh, 

Because it never more can share 

Thy glorious destiny ; 

Mv love has never souo^ht reward- 

'Twas joy enough for me 

To dwell alone at certain times 

And cherish thoughts of thee. 

My mother to her child once gave 

Affection's untold wealth. 

Since then IVe seen the swift decay 

Of hope, and joy, and health ; 

1 murmured not, at heaven's decree. 

Though thus of all bereft, 

When you and I began to love 

A world of bliss was left. 



DECEPTION. 

Though other ties thy heart now bind 

While we but drift apart, 

Yet, aui I sinning if I hide 

Thine image in my heart? 

So sweet, so holy was the spell 

By love around me cast 

That I am blinded to all love 

Since this, my charm, has past. 

I feel that you another love, 
Yet there's a heavy trace. 
And all the love of others 
Those bright tints can't efface. 
I hope his lot a joyous one 
If you his fate control, 
I'll try to seek a higher fate^ 
The union of the soul. 

The time was, when 1 looked on thee 

As God sent future bride, 

And had a longing in my heart 

To thus be satisfied; 

But it is best for you and I 

If we are not to wed, 

To know before we cfo too far 

Upon the lover's tread. 



00 LOVE llEQATNED, 

Fjii'ewell, beloved one, when thy bi*o\V 

The cupid crown shall bind, 

And when, somewhere in life' 8 abode 

You and someone combine, 

Then think of one who looked on thee 

With more than human pride, 

And glories in the thought that you 

Are someone's riorhtful bride. 



Love lleg:ained » 

If it Is really true that I have grieved thee, 
You whom my soul has always loved the best, 
Oan you not come to me once more forgiving. 
And lay your head again upon my breast? 

Last night when I in grief and sorrow left you, 
And heard the rapid slam of your screen door ; 
1 felt that I toward my doom was going, 
And love and joy would be mine nevermore. 

The thought that cau^^ed my heart to bleed 

most freely: 
I've ahvays tried to go the true love's route, 
And then to think my only heart's affection. 
Myself and Word did disbelieve and doubt. 



LOVE UEQAtNEI). 91 

And then I felt that all my earthly efforts, 
Were wasted— and what we call human life, 
Was nothing but a sea of disappointment, 
Of myth and pain, of sorrow, grief and strife. 

But since I have received from you a letter, 
Which says that you have called me back 

again, 
A heavy mist has gathered up before me, 
When it is gone I hope there'll be no pain. 

If I had known how sadly I should grieve you, 

If I had thought that it was the last, 

Thei'o's njthiu'j: in the World had made me 

leave you. 
And now, dear heart, I hope the gloom is past* 

Can you not see how I have missed you, dear- 
est, 
How I regret I ever gave you pain ; 
How heretofore I held you first and nearest, 
() love, may I say you are mine again? 

I will be kinder to you. I was fretful,' 
Life had so much that was too hard to bear, 
I did not understand how self-forgetful. 
Your love had lightened every pain and care* 



m hnVli: AND FEAR CONTEST, 

We orrow too sure of those who never o^ive us 
A single anxious thought; they are our own: 
I did not dream how mueh I really loved you, 
Until I thought my priceless treasure gone. 

I hate to think of sorrow's painful palace, 
I could not stand tothink that you werethere; 
I felt that you were passing, while 1 love you, 
Beyond me, among inen that you could bear. 

Yet, if 'tis true that you are still my lover, 
Your own pure life no mocking chance has 

known ; 
Can you not now sweet consolation give me. 
For orrief and doubt that have so bitter grown ? 

Can you not just for my sake once more kiss me ; 

And we'll forget the words that gave us pain, 

'They haunt me now, — and that you love and 
miss me, 

May we now call our doubts true love regain- 
ed? 

Love and Pear Contest. 

They say that in each human heart, 
There is an unseen battle-field, 

*Pon which two lighting forces meet, 
And neither one consents to yield. 



LOVE AND FEAR CONTEST. 93 

I don't know who those forces are, 

There's love and hatred, hope and fear, 

There's hiiiofhter with his s^reat bazaar, 
There's sorrow with its bitter tear. 

Once love stepped out upon my breast. 
And gazing at the vacant skies; 

Had thoughts of one it thinks the best. 
And this is what, aloud it cried: — 

Just thoughts of her is music sweet. 
Dear A. V. : Oh be still my heart; 

And darling with what joy it speaks. 
Oh, how it makes njy senses start. 

I must confess it rolls along. 

In scintillating streams of bliss ; 

Until it mingles with my song — 
And thrills me like a pulsing kiss. 

Then fear came forth upon the scene, 
And said "beware of passive bliss; 

For things are not just what they seem," 
Then love replied in words like this : 

I recognize the Christian plan, 
This earthly life is built upon; 

It gives a wife to ev'rj^ man. 
And I'll be satisfied with one. 



94 FIXED LCYE. 

Yes surely I'll be satisfied, 

If I can get the one I love ; 
The one who's taken away my heart, 

And carries it where'er she roves. 

But fear, I trembled at one thought; 

If she consents to be my bride. 
What, oh what, if I can't supply 

The things to make her satisfied. 
Could I be happy? No, not I, 

I'd rather be adrift at sea, 
With the storms around me raging, 

And no one there to care for me. 

But I will do the best I can. 
The noblest precepts to obey ; 

But sometimes tides of fierce desires. 
Around my heart doth surge and sway. 

I must restrain the thoughts I feel. 
Now glowing in my fervent breast; 

They're not conducive to my weal, 
Simply a love and fear contest. 



Fixed Love, 



You know that I love you, yet bid me adieu. 
Can happiness live when absent from 3'ou ? 
Will sleep on my eyelids e'er sweetly alight 
When greeted no more by a tender good night? 



NEW TEAL'S Gia^ETIAG. 95 

Oh, never, for deep is the record enshrined, 
Thjlook and thy voice will survive in my mind; 
Though age may the treasure of memory remove 
Unshaken shall flourish the thought that 1 love. 

Through life's winding valley,in anguish, in rest, 
Exalted in joy, or by sorrow de{)ressed; 
Just place in the mirror that lies on my heart 
Thine image shall never one moment depart. 

When time, life, and all that we mortals hold 
dear, 

Like visions, like dreams, shall at last disap- 
pear. 

Though raised among seraphs to realms above, 

Unshaken shall flourish thethought that Hove. 

New Year's Greeting. 

To a loved one. 

As this is the first of the year. 

And I am all alone, 
I thought I'd try to draw me near 

To thee, my dear, my own. 

Yes, I'm alone, and don't you know 

I do not like to speak. 
Yet I will, as 'tis fitting now, 

My wanted silence break. 



96 NEW YEAiriS GREETIKQ. 

There is a love that in my soul 
Burns silent and alone; 

It kindles ilames around my heart, 
You know that heart's your own. 

The dearest idol I have known 
Is my dear Lord above ; 

The next one which I long to own 
Is you, my precious love. 

I call myself both chaste and pure, 
And free from passions low ; 

Hence I know what I say is true, 
For conscience speaketh so. 

Thy Christian spirit I do prize. 
For this I've surely seen; 

For this thou'rt precious to my eyes 
As gold and jewels sheen. 

Thy sweet face I esteem indeed. 
So modest and so kind; 

Its presence I forever need. 
May I call that face mine? 

I've never written such a poem 

To mortal girl before, 
Because I've never loved a woman 

As the one I now adore. 



MISS SNOW FLAKE AND THE LOVERS. 97 

During the year that's past and gone, 
I've hiimched m a new field ; 

That tender chord broke with a song, 
And now to k)ve I yield. 

As I review my past year's work. 
Some things I've left undone; 

And yet I feel that 1 have gained. 
If your confidence I've won. 

I hope that I have not done that 

To bring thee any pain ; 
For all I've done was done in love. 

Dear, is my love in vain? 

Throughout the year of ninety — 

If lovers still we be ; 
Let's have that love that warms both 
hearts 

And let our minds be free. 



Miss Snow Flake and the Lovers, 

Little Miss Snow Flake came to town 
All dressed up in a velvet gown; 

And nobody looked so fresh and fair 
As little Miss Snow Flake, I declare. 



MISS SNOW FLAKE AND THE LOVERS. 

Out of the iiozy cloud she stepped, 

Where most all of the siiowliakes slept; 

She thought her l)eautA" would ne'er he known 
If in a crowd, so she came alone. 

All alone from the great blue sky 

Where the swift clouds went scudding by, 

All the Avay from the briofht abode 
Down somewhere near the city road. 

There she rested near out of breath. 
And there she speed'ly met her death; 

And nobody could exacth^ tell 

Just where little Miss Snow Flake fell. 

But a ver}' prominent ^^oung man, 

Botli for love and his heart's command 

Was out that night to see his girl. 

When the Miss Snow Flake gave her twirl. 

So when the young man said he'd go. 
He op'd the door and cried out "O !'* 

And he fell back mo-st out of breath 
And almost scared his girl to death. 

That Miss Snow Flake of whom we s])eak, 
H;id struck the young man on the cheek; 

His shoe> were of the patent kind,. 
His overcoat he'd left behiud. 



THE TllIP I WOULD LIKE. I 

And she says: "What's the matter dear?' 
He says, "See how it snows out here," 

And if I have to go out doors, 
I'll set frost bitten on the nose." 

These two did love from depth of heart ; 

In danger's realm they could not part; 
And now I ask both men and maids, 

Whether this man went home or stayed. 



The Trip I Would Like to Tal^e. 

Man has a curious appetite, 
He's all the time wishing to go ; 
And if he had the wings of a kite. 
He'd travel this wide world o'er. 

Sometime I'd like to go away, 
Far over the Rocky Mountains ; 
Where the rainbows dance on silvery 

rays. 
Of California's fountain. 

In the rocks below, in the trees above. 
In the brooklet and the river 
I could read and know that God is love, 
And of all good things the giver. 



100 THE TRIP I WOULD JAKE. 



I would like to go to the Y^ellowstone, 
And witness the giant geysers; 
To see its gnindure there {done, 
W^ould surely make me wiser. 

For in the roar the hissing stream, 
As it issues from the crater; 
I could there learn more of the bound- 
less theme, 
Of a kind and wise Creator. 

Then I would go to the great Black Hills, 
Across the plains of Dakota; 
And take a stroll to the rippling rills. 
And lakes of Minnesota. 

I would sit on lake Itaska's shore 
Where the Mississippi rises; 
And Minnehaha's laughing roar 
\A^)uld till me with glad sui-prises. 
I'd go to the '• Dreamy city," 
Well 3^es, and while I was there ; 
I'd make myself a committee, 
To witness the ruins of the fair. 
I would journey then to Southern climes, 
'Mid Florida's blooming bowers; 
There to see Gv)d's work sublime. 
In the beautiful, fragrant flowers. 



THE TllfP I WOULD LIKE. lol 

From there I'd make a flying trip, 
To the gateway city of the east; 
And from its great exldbits, 
And Negro arts I'd feast. 

And then a little cruise I'd take, 
Along the Atlantic Ocean ; 
To where the earth with a powerful quake 
Put Charleston in wild commotion. 

I would still continue on my way. 
Through the Shenandoah valley. 
Where the *' boys in blue and the boyvS 

in gray," 
Would waver again to rally. 

Then I'd 5:0 to Nias^ara's Falls, 
And there I would learn and wonder, 
For God can teach in a voice that calls 
From the cataract's deafening thunder. 
I'd wander over into Texas, 
To visit a loving sister, 
I'd talk of the days gone and past. 
And tell her how I had missed her. 
I would then cross into Mexico, 
And visit those ancient mounds ; 
That were built hundreds of years ago. 
Whose mystery man has not found. 



102 THE TRIP T WOULD UKE. 

I'd tro to Italy's sunny climes, 

To the *'city of seven hills," 

And from its structure of ancient times, 

And orandure I'd be tilled. 

I'd go to the unspeakable Turk, 

Aniono- the Armenian strife; 

And ask them how from conscience 

clear, 
They still took human life. 

I'd go before the courts of France, 
\Miere Waller was in jail ; 
rd])rick theirears with facts, and make 
Their conscience go his bail. 

Then I would journey to the North, 
To see that Shakespearian land; 
Where Handet said from conscious wrath 
"What a })iece of work is num." 

I would then go to the Holy Land, 
Where the Saviour was crucified. 
Then I could better kee}) His commands, 
Seeing the place where He died. 
Fd traverse all the paths of Paul, 
Among the various nations ; 
Then I'd go where man had his fall, 
And view the land of creation. 



THE TRIP I WOULD LIKE. 103 

I'd then oo into Egypt land, 

Where Joseph was sent by God, 

I'd stand where Moses gave command, 

I'd tread where Israel trod. 

I'd go into Africa's Jungles. 
Where the Bible has never been. 
And attempt God's word to mumble, 
In the hearts of heathen men. 

I'd visit then the Isles of the sea, 
And view^ those novel scenes, 
I'd tell the people what to be. 
And not what they should seem. 

If I was able Christiiin friends. 
To travel this journey through. 
It would not be for sights or scenes. 
But teaching men to be true. 

And if I could on this journey roam. 
My trip would not be ended; 
I'd like to view^ the eternal home, 
And there be recommended. 



104 ALONE Wiril JESUS. 

Alone with Jesus. 

Over the hills and dales, Jesus, that I strolled 
in the long ago, 

I am wandering once again nij Lord, where 
dame nature's teachings glow; 

And I pause by the way to whisper. Lord, to 
the blossoms sweet and fair, 

A poor little faded sorrow. Lord, there's no- 
body else to care. 

Springtime with all its joys, Jesus, is out on 

the old highway, 
But the breezes sigh as they pass me by and 

over the meadows stray ; 
Mournfully sigh the breezes. Lord, as they 

pass me standing there. 
By the ])ine tree row where the daises grow, 

and no})ody for me cares. 

Standing ahme with the trees, my Lord, I am 

lost in a pensive dream, 
I am floating away through the happy day, 

when my youthful conscience gleam. 
The conscience that ^hi'.rcd n.y lo\e fcr you, 

The conscience that smiled as fair. 
As the promise true I was glad to view, with 

nobodv else to care. 



ALONE WITH JESUS, 105 

Over the hills and dales, Jesus, in the shadow- 
ing cool of da^s 
Conies the echo low of long ago the tenderest 

things to say. 
And I smile anew as the twilight conies toban- 

ish my long despair 
With a thought of You that is sweet and pure 
and wonder if You will care. 
Something speaks to me, eJesus, the breez- 
es are singing low, 
Something that thrills the conscience, Lord, 

and gives them a brighter glow ; 
Something that soothes the pinching pain I 

have patiently learned to wear, 
Through the endless day on the sweet high- 
way, it seems, Lord, that you are there. 

Then elesus said ''I'm with you now, and 

will be with you always, 
We'll go together and make things better 

alono^the sweet highway, " 
We strolled through the meadows together, 

the days seemed endless fair. 
He told me of His home on high and the 

many mansions there. 



108 MT BIBLE. 

My Bible. 

From Santa Clau.s' niot^t sacred nook, 
Came forth this little prayerful book. 
On Christmas day. 

As the old year is past and jjone, 
And the new year heains with song, 
I'll read its ray. 

As we look back o'er our past lives. 
And see from whence blessings derived, 
We all should pray. 

Oh ! who so brave with earthly care, 
As not to give an humble prayer, 
Some part of day ? 

What heart so clear, so pure within. 
That needelh not some check from sin, 
Needs not to pray ? 

Mid each day*s anger, what retreats, 
More needful than the mercy seat, 
On that last day? 

What thoughts more dear than that our 

God, His face should hide 
And say through life's swelling tide, 
No time to hear? 



i/r jirnLh:. icT 

You have launched your boat on life's gid- 
dy sea, 
And your all is alloat for eternity, 
When you have no time to pray. 

You have chosen the world, with its mis- 
named pleasures ; 
You have chosen the world before heav- 
en's own treasures, 
If you have no time to pray. 

When the stars are concealed, the rudder 

gone, 
Heaven will be sealed to ihe wandering 

one, 
Who has no time to pray. 

The grave shall yield its prize when from 

the wondering skies, 
Christ shall with wondering angels come, 

to wake those sleeping in the tomb. 
Then you'll have no time to pray. 

Oh! may it ever be said, that this book, 

by us, shall be read. 
And, may we all together meet. Embrac- 
ing the Redeemer's feet, 
For we have time to pray. 



108 FASHION. 

Fashion. 

MRster of the woman's kingdom, 
What is this men say of thee? 

Thou art what the woman honors, 
Thou art all some care to be! 

And they say, you're loved by many, 
Loved too often, loved too well. 

Just as if there could be any 
Over loving in thy swell. 

Sir, no doubt these dear good people. 

Were you not their earthly God, 
Could build them a (Christian steeple 

Up to heaven, without a hod. 
You and Solomon the wise man. 

Are two fellows of a kind. 
Just to please the wants of woman, 

You would leave your soul behind. 
And those sisters that can't catch you, 

What a plight they must be in I 
For the sono- vou sino^ oft leads them 

To commit an awful sin. 
Now all wicked aspirations. 

Do not spring from sotils depraved 
Into fashion. Its elation 

Is the sanctity it craved. 



FASHION. IS 

In the world's Ion": reign of struggles, 
Thou hast played an active part ; 

Hast thou during all thy journey, 
Mended up a broken heart? 

Thou hast found some so despondent. 
Who the name of God despise; 

Hast thou tried to once control by 
Pointing over to Paradise? 

VVhen thou lindest men and women. 
Struggling for the higher life, 

Dost thou lend a hand to help them? 
No, thou causest human strife ! 

Woman tries to be thy servant, 
Disobeys dame Nature's laws. 

Ere she reaches thirty summers, 
Shattered frame and sunken jaws. 

Ere she comes to age of duty. 

Her own grave she's quickly dug. 

Simply 'cause thy longing beauty. 
Keeps her body in a shrug. 

You o-o with them to the church house, 
They do not hear the preacher; 

You are all their heart's ehition. 
You are their Sunday teacher. 



110 FASHION. 

Thou hast seized the cross of Jesus, 
Loaded it with new born sins ; 

Overloaded it with folly, 
Placed it on His back again, 

Thou, in th>^ domain of pleasure, 

Crush the thorns throuo^h Jesus ' cro wn 

Making men laugh at His passions, 
And the blood thatS trickling down. 

Thou art in the great theatres, 
Thou art on the ball room floor ; 

Thou art in the gambler's dungeon. 
Thou dost all men's sorrows know. 

Thou hast severed many fam'lies, 

Children off from home have strayed ; 

Fjither sits there broken hearted, 
Mother joined thy great parade. 

Well, no doubt you had your troubles, 
Devils blue that fought ^^our hopes; 

But you have it back in double, 
AVoman's kingdom in a lope. 

If your lady love stuck by you. 

In the mediaeval day. 
Ah ! dear fashion, here is to you. 

In these tiuies that is the way. 



STIWNO DRINK. HI 

Always sure you have your glory, 

It increases and takes well ; 
What the end is of thy story, 

There's no paragraph to telL 

At thy feet a million people 

Lie today without a breath ; 
Who, in worshiping thy steei)le, 

Found an everlasting death. 



Btroiig: Brink* 

There is a crime upon this land, 
That works both night and day, 

It gives its wicked, dark command, 
The hearts of men it sways. 

It brings men from all ranks of life, 
Down to the brutish tribe, 

Where ever^^thing is Avar and strife, 
And wickedness abide. 

It goes into the sacred homes, 
Where peace and love should be ; 

It makes the children long to roam, 
And home affections flee. 



112 STRONG BRINK. 

It knocks the noble mother down, 

It kicks her on the floor, 
And makes her husband give her frown. 

Which follows with a blow. 

Sometimes it curses mother dear. 
And stabs her bleeding heart. 

And, filled with sorrow, love, and fear. 
From husband's face departs. 

It strips the children naked and 
Leaves them without their food; 

It breaks the fam'lj^ coral strand, 
And leaves thino^s dark and rude. 

It takes the joung man in his prime. 
And makes him curse his mother. 

But this is the beginning crime. 
It takes him even further. 

It makes him take the spotless heart 
Of soiiie bright, prosperous maid. 

And take it to the demon mart. 
And there has it arrayed. 

It makes her break the marriage vow, 

While in her honey moon. 
And long from his demoniac rows, 

To roam and cure her swoons. 



STRONG DRINK. 113 

It makes the young man poison all 

The tissues of her system, 
And various diseases make 

This maid their deathly victim. 

He soon vacates this world himself, 
And leaves a weeping widow. 

With mind, and soul, and heart bereft, 
A past all dark and bitter. 

He leaves with her an infant child, 

With an intemperate birth ; 
To, if it lives, go and defile 

Some other one of worth. 

This demon takes a million youths 

In every passing year, 
And makes them disregard the truth. 
And give to right a jeer. 

It strikes a million mothers' hearts. 
That should be filled with joy. 

And makes their inner senses start 
With ** Where's my precious boy?" 

It takes a million mid-life men. 
From out the state and church. 

And takes them to its wicked den 
W^here conscience walks with crutch. 



114 STRONG BRINK. 

It takes the old retirino^ snire, 
Who should give good ndvice, 

And makes him, in his ripe old age 
Detest the livino^ Christ, 

Tt makes the leaders of the state 
Forget that man needs limit, 

And names this crime industry g^reat. 
Because there's money in it. 

It tills our penitent' rj walls, 

It runs the county farms; 
It overflows the prison stalls. 

With all its death-like charms. 

Its fruits are the asylums, and 
Poor-houses, and hospitals, 

The gambling hell, the illfamed house. 
Where satan plays the fiddle. 

It wrecks the system of a man. 

Promotes arterial action, 
Inflames the liver and it stands 

Amidst diseases' factions. 

This prej^s upon the active lungs, 
Which paints the hectic cheek. 

And prophecies a sepulcher 
For a consumptive freak. 



STRONG BRINK. 115 

This follows on the fatal train, 

Promoting untold sadness, 
Until it strikes upon the brain. 

Which brings distressing madness. 

The victim feels himself in hell 

Whde he's with living men; 
And he could whet the dagger well, 

To take the life of friends. 

His wicked passions are inflamed, 

With crime, with lust, with anger, 
And drops his heart in human shame 

Beneath all human candor. 
He seeks to hold relentless war, 

With God, or man, or self; 
All men to him are at a par. 

His mind is all bereft. 

This crime is universal. 

It travels this wide world o'er, 

It makes men's hearts reversal. 
And puts conscience out the door. 

It has swallowed generations, 
And made whole nations shrink ; 

Its mission is damnation, 

This crime is named *' Strong Drink." 



116 SAM J ONES. 



Sam Jones. 

Who 18 it for the hist two weeks 

Has been in our town. 
And on the end of every tongue 

We hear his name resound? 

Who is it everj night and day. 
Would draw a mighty crowd, 

And from the depth of his own heart, 
Poured forth God's truth aloud? 

Who was it that appealed to all, 

To every class of men, 
And showed the dreadful wickedness. 

In their indul^finir sins? 

Who was it culled the children out 

And told them what to do, 
And told them what they must forbid. 

To be God's children true? 

Who touched that little tender chord 
Within their youthful hearts, 

And deep down in their youthful souls 
Did God's own word impart? 



SAM JONES, 117 

Who called the mothers out one day 

And opened to their view, 
The way they must through life's conflicts 

Lead their dear children through? 

Who told them that their mission was 

More sacred than them all, 
That they built up a platform where 

The child would stand or fall ? 

M^ho told the wives that selfsame day 

What was their sacred duty, 
And told the daughters, young and old, 

That character was. beauty? 

Who told the young men that the world 

Was hanging on its fate. 
And waiting for some noble men 

To fill the church and state? 

And then who told the fathers dear 

That they too had a hand. 
That on the fam'ly's record book 

Were traces of their hands ? 

Who told them that the faithful wife, 
Who was the queen of home, 

W^ ere due all his affections, that 
He had.nx)-tinie to.roam? 



118 A HUMAN ARTIST. 

Who told them that those children dear 

Now phiying at mother's knee, 
Depended on their father's strength, 

They'd be what father'd be? 
Who called men from the ganibling hell, 

And told them that the cards, 
Thai they had pushed from day to day 

Would their own child retard? 
Who called men from the low saloons 

And told them that the cup 
Would cause their sons to be like them, 

No better than a pup. 
Who drew the tears to Christian eyes, 

And caused their souls to weep; 
Who made some sinners cry aloud, 

'^'11 try God's word to keep?" 
But time is brief and I must stop, 

Do you all understand ; 
Excell and Steward both were there, 

But Sam Jones was the man. 

A Human Artist. 

Would that I were an artist 
And while I stand in time 
I could show our youths eternity. 
While they are in their prime. 



MAfD AND MOSQUITO, 119 

Would that I were an artist, 
And to this American nation 
I'd picture out the lynching crime 
And show its revelation. 

Would that I were an artist, 
I would draw a human heart, 
I'd show to men and women 
The effects of corrupted parts. 

And then I'd outline Paradise, 
And give a celestial view, 
I'd show to men their future home. 
If while on earth they're true. 



Maid and Mosquito. 

A maiden sat at midday hour, 
Beneath a shady tree. 
She heard a noise within her bower, 
** My soul, what can it be?" 

She looked around, but looked in vain. 
Fur nothing met her gaze, 
She quieted down to read again, 
Its voice tgain was raised. 



120 MAID AND MOt^QUITO. 

Hiirk ! hush I I know it can't be far, 
'Tis clearer than before, 
Is it the whistle of the car, 
Or distant thunder's roar? 

Ah! soon I'll know for here it conies, 
Mj nerves quake in their bud, 
For with its long and pointed tongue 
'Twill pierce and drink my blood. 

My doom is sealed, I know my fate, 
OI would that I were a man. 
He darts from his atrial state 
And lights upon her hand. 

She screamed for help and raised a stick 
And fought, for she could not hide. 
The great mosquito gave a kick. 
Fell from her hand and died. 

She could not read because she had 
Deep meditating thoughts, 
She stood and gazed upon the spot 
Where she'nd the skeeter fought. 

But presently she heard a noise 
Circling around her head. 
And there was a score of skeeters, 
Singing songs. of the tiead.- ;^ 



MAGNA EtiT VEHITAS. IJIl 

She closed her book and sat upright, 
The skeeters increased their mew, 
She saw she could not stand it long, 
So she grabbed her book and flew. 



Magna est Veritas, 

I want to be a soldier, 
From realms of heavenly light, 
Be pure in soul, and bold in heart, 
And o-uide all mankind right, 

I want to serve the weary. 
And cause a light to shine 
In every path that's dreary. 
To cheer when strength declines. 

I want that meek and tender glory 
That fills the soul with life, 
So dear to youth, to age and hoary, 
To all so dear and free from strife. 

Our lives are unincumbered 
By depressing want and woe. 
And the days fly by unnumbered, 
Smoothly down time's path they go. 



122 MAGNA EsT VERITAS. 

I'm trying to forge ji key 
To ope the gates of heaven ; 
That key'8 in the hearts of men, 
And back its bolts are driven. 

Lord strengthen me, that while I stand 
On the rock, and strong in Thee, 
I may stretch out a loving hand 
To wrestle a troubled sea. 

Lord, teach me, that I may teach 
The things thou dost impart, 
Help me and my w\ants to reach 
The depths of many a heart. 

*'To place my thoughts in one line," 
In a decoration of beauty, 
And get behind my conscience, 
My whole life's work is duty. 

These w^ords come to my mind, 

** The work of the world is done by a 

few," 
These words come from my conscience, 
*'God looks for a part to be done by 

you." 



JUST MARRIED. 123 

Jvist Married. 

You've launched in a new vessel, 
And down life's stream you're going, 
Remember that life's tides will rise, 
And life's winds will be blowing. 

But while the storms are raging, 
Stand by each other's side. 
And just as 'tis when all is calm, 
Your boat will stem the tide. 

Eternal love and wisdom drew 

The plan of earth and skies, 

Let His great love be e'er your guide 

Throughout your married lives. 

May your lives be prosperous. 

And always full of love. 

And may you both be led by Him 

Whose home's in heaven above. 

All earthly good we wish thee. 

All orood for thee and thine. 

And still not only earthly, 

But all that is divine. 

May heaven and earth both mingle, 

May earth and heaven be one 

AH through your earthly journey, 

Till set your earthly sun. 



124 WOMAN IN CONQUERS. 



The heart that vou have given, 
The heart that's given to you, 
May both be joined together, 
May both be good and true. 

In shadow and in sunshine, 
In sighing and in song, 
May heaven bless your union, 
Throughout vour whole life Ions; 



Woman in Congress. 

Well, a woman went to congress, 

Because she was elected ; 
She lived in a woman's era, 

Hence she was not objected. 

All of the leading problems 
Of the country's weal or woe, 

Were discussed while there at congress. 
And her mind was all aglow. 

And a lady friend said to her ; 

**Did you catch the speaker's eye?" 
*' I sure did, and I'll tell you 

The simple reasorttwhy ! " 



LIFE PICTURES. 125 

''I wore my navy blue bloomers, 

And heliotrope skirt waist; 
And his eyes were ever on me, 

I dressed to suit his taste." 

This woman was a congressman 

She had the states at heart ; 
Of course she had to dress that way, 

For that's a woman's part. 



Life Pictures. 

One little look from mother, 
Has caused the innocent child. 
To go into spasmodic shame 
Or a distillation of smiles. 

Just one little word when spoken, 
In a soft and gentle tone, 
May send reviving spirits 
Into a heart of stone. 

Sometimes a soul that's frigid, 
Though frozen up for years. 
May, by an act of kindness 
Be melted into tears. 



126 QUIETUDE. 

So we, whose lives are lighted 
With all the world holds dear, 
Should give to those less favored 
A kindly word of cheer. 

These little things we count for naught. 
Hold all our greatest power, 
The dewdrop on the thirsty bud 
Opens the fragrant flower. 



Quietude. 

When my daily toil is ended 
And the sun begins to wane, 
O, if I could find some quietude, 
To dispel my care and pain. 

What a peaceful change I'd witness. 
How my heart with rapture'd glow. 
While the murmurs of the quietude 
Lull my soul in sweet repose. 

Quietude while I am busy. 
Calmly on the bustling shore. 
Better hearts than mine can love thee, 
Purer lives thy peace adore. 



A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 127 

Should perchance someone enjoying 
Kesidence within thy shrine, 
Bury in thy placid bosom, 
All his cares along with mine. 



A Christinas Gift. 
(Bible.) 

Do you know that this is Christmas, 
And this little book is sent 

As a messenger of One who 

Came to earth with good intent? 

Came to earth, left home in glory. 
On that first cold Christmas day, 

And He's left this as a token. 
Showing us the right of way. 

When you ponder o'er its pages. 
Think of how the Savior died. 

How He suffered men's outrages. 
Loved them, yet was crucified. 

Can we count redemption's treasure. 
Scan the glory of God's love? 

Such shall be the boundless measure 
Of His blessings from above. 



K8 THE N EG no's ''AMERICA:' 

When the Christ mases are over, 
And the Savior comes again, 

May you join the happy chorus. 
And in glory be ordained. 



The Negro's "America." 

My country, 'tis of thee. 
Sweet hind of liberty^ 

Would I could sing; 
Its land of Pilgrim's pride 
Also where Ij^nched men died 
With such upon her tide. 

Freedom can't reio^n. 

My native country, thee 

The world pronounce you free 

Thy name I love; 
But when the lynchers rise 
To slaughter hunum lives 
Thou closest up thine eyes, 

Thy God's above. 

Let Negroes smell the breeze. 
So they can sing with ease 

Sweet freedom's song; 
Let justice reign supreme. 
Let men be what they seem 
Break up that lyncher's screen. 

Lay down all wrong. 



FLEETING SPRING. 129 

Our fathers' God, to Thee, 
Author of liberty, 

To Thee we sing; 
How can our land be bright? 
Can Ivnchino: be a lio^ht? 
Protect us bv thv niiorht, 

Great God our King ! 

Fleeting Spring. 

Friends, my dear friends, do you know 
That Springtime's April is gone, 

And lovely May with all its show, 
Has nature's spring coat on? 

Birds, little birds, yes you know 

That it is beautiful sf)ring; 
From tree to tree, the birdies go, 

On fleetinor wino: I 

Quaker, quaker, do you know 

That the yellow is going? 
More than that do you know 

That the orreen is orrowino:? 

Singer of songs, do you know 

That youth is Hying? 
That age, at the lock of your life. 

Will soon be prying? 



130 TIME -ETERNITY. 

Lover of life, do you know 
That youth's hue is jroingr? 

More than that, do you know 
That the gray is showing? 



Time — Eternity. 

The Saint's Depart"»jre. 

I had a dream the other night, 

I saw some strange and mystic sights 

That puzzled me ; 
Some things I saw resembled time. 
And some resembled more sublime — 

"Eternity." 

The oriental Persian scenes. 

The tropics with their bright sunbeams, 

Could not compare. 
And even Italy's soft'ning hills, 
Pleasant dales and rippling rills. 

Would stand aglare. 

I saw the sun rise in the East, 

And watched to see its Western feast. 

It nerer set ; 
I wandered 'round among the throng. 
To see if any soul was wronged. 

But none 1 met. 



TIME^ETERNITY. 131 

They all had on their bright attire, 
It seem'd thej never would retire 

To workman's garb; 
I wondered how they could exist, 
Forever in a pleasure mist. 

My senses throbb'd. 

I strolled around the city's limit, 

To find the tombstones that were in it. 

And as I went 
I saw towers and castles high. 
But not a white slab to my eye 

Said monument. 

I souo:ht to find the destitute. 

And wondered why they were so mute, 

I felt for them ; 
I could not get a single sigh. 
Nor even see a tearful eye. 

No face was grim. 

I went into a chapel grand. 

Its walls were gold. I saw a man 

Stand by the door; 
** There's no place for the poor I see!" 
And he this answer made to me: 

'*We have no poor." 



132 TiyfE ETERNITY. 

I was perplexed, so I sat down, 
Beneath a shade tree's springtime sound 

And this ini})lied: 
"Sir! whence come all these loving 

scenes, 
This landscape to our eyes serene. 

Sir ! where am I?" 

And then out from among the leaves, 
And from the pathway's ilower wreathes, 

And 'cross the stream; 
There came a throntrinor band of saints, 
AVith countenance above complaints, 

Joy reigned supreme. 

At tirst I thought I knew their voices. 
Their greetings to me were the choicest, 

I made a start ; 
Hut they, arrayed in shining gold. 
Appeared as strangers in the fold, 

I knew them not. 

And when they saw me puzzled stand, 
'I'he mio^hty throns did ciai) their hands. 

Saying "welcome." 
And all the mystery passed away. 
The band cried out ' ' you're here to stay. 

This is hearen !" 



(W.ASS VAJ.EDT(rrORIAN. 133 

I found thnt time had orone its trip, 
Eternity h:id fixed its orip 

On liunian hearts; 
The rieh and poor togethei* stood, 
Upon one solid brotherhood — 

Never to part. 

And some one said from out the throng, 
*'Are all here who have conquered 
wrong?" 

He was a seer ; 
And voi'^es from all generations. 
Sent forth in loudest exclamation: 

'' We are all here." 
An angel cried ''Time why depart?" 
And Time replied with cheerful heart, 

I used to be; 
But God, the maker of mankind, 
8aid some day I should be defined 

^* Eternity, '- 



Class Valedictorian. 

To A. R. 

The struggles you have made in school. 
Today are crowned with honor; 
You stand now in a vestibule. 
That causes you to ponder. 



134 CLASS \ALEDICTORIAN. 

School diiys and childhood days must end, 
And life's tempestuous storms; 
From every part are coming in, 
Be firm ! Be true ! Be calm ! 

In conversation once you said 

The highest human standing 

Would be your goal. And you'd be led 

By all your rights demanding. 

No matter what the \vorld may say, 
Adopt this as an omen — 
That you will go the right of way, 
And make yourself a woman. 

A gentle yoice is calling thee, 

The future calls for aid; 

And those stern ones in death made free, 

Tell you the price they ]>aid. 

Stand forth for God and liberty. 
Stand forth for human rights; 
In one strong effort, worthy thee. 
Soul stenciled, be a light. 

Enter the field of life to do. 

Not just to work for gain ; 

For such mottoes make men untrue, 

Narrowino^ the heart and brain. 



CLASS VALEDICTORIAN. 135 

Enter not in a feverish strife, 
Nor in a oriddvinor whirl, 
For these dry the fountain of life, 
And gulfs the soul in a swirl. 

Enter not in a dull routine, 
He who was meant to be king, 
Thus will be made a dull machine, 
Grindincr down to a thinor. 

Your classmates have their ejes on you, 
Your kindred watch your motion, 
Your friends have all your acts in view, 
Your ship is on the ocean. 

And world-wide Christendom at large, 
Stands waiting for your action ; 
And God, who shaped your fleeting barge. 
Has with you a transaction. 

Thus environed move forward brave, 
Surmount all opposition, 
And on this restless human wave, 
Make better man's condition. 

Go forth, thou leader of the class, 
With brain ahead of brawn; 
Strive e'er to gain the foremost place, 
Let no man take thv crown. 



13« CLASS VALEDTCTOUTAN. 

As you move off into life's sea, 
With skill to use the pen; 
Be thou a inesseno-er of peace, 
A l)ea('on light to men. 

Press on, you have the class's hope, 
Be brave and watch vour course ; 
Success is on ahead and you 
Shall gain the wished for shores. 

Should I fail, not skilled in writing, 
Best adrise here to produce; 
From the world's great pictures view it, 
Put it to the best of use. 




PART 11. 
Children's Cornei'. 



CHTLDREN'S COHNER, 



Cliiklreii's Corner. 
•« Little Children Love One Another." Bille. 

I wish that I had the power 
To dedicate this chapter, 

There's not a sino^le hour, 
My soul it don't enrapture. 

I wish I knew just what to say, 

To introduce this part ; 
Its on my mind both night and day, 

It penetrates my heart. 

* * * 

I wish I had the children here. 
Well, then I couldn't write; 

My mind would be in such a cheer. 
My heart in such a flight — 

That I would not believe my eyes, 

That I was not in Paradise. 



CHILDREN'S KISSES. 139 

Children's Kisses. 
I John, 3:7. 

Sometimes we kiss for passion's sake, 

Sometimes we kiss through love; 
Sometimes we kiss and make mistakes, 

Our kisses should be gloved. 
We never know when lips impart, 

If it is false or true; 
But if its from the children's heart, 

Just rest assured its pure. 
We ne'er have thoughts unsatisfied, 

Which children's kisses bring; 
No tearful eyes for hope denied. 

Nor taste of bitter things. 
We ne'er have sense of fallen pride. 

No reason for resentment ; 
No thoughts of wicked Lethe's tide, 

The child's kiss brings contentment. 
The hope of endless better things, 

The kiss of children wakes, 
And stirs our hearts, till conscience sings 

And hearts with gladness break. 
If all the kisses on the earth. 

Were pure as little children's. 
And I could get my conscience's worth, 

My kisses would be millions. 



THE SINGING OF BIRDS. 141 

'' The Time of the Singing of Birds 
is Come." 

Solomon's Song, 2:12. 

1 sought the sanctum of a bird, 

I wanted information ; 
I simply asked for just one word, 

To help in dedication. 

Chirped the birdie, "Its an honor. 

If it is for the children ; 
For their holy, sacred corner, 

I'll give vou half a million." 

"Little sisters, little brothers, 
I've a message from above; 

Told to me to tell to others, 
Its a heart brim full of love." 

"While time is fresh and hope is new. 
While youth is lingering nigh. 

Keep noble things Avithin thy view. 
Look up toward the sky." 

"I often think how the angels 
Arc near us both night and day. 

Let us prevent evil passions. 
From driving them far away." 



142 HEART THIEVES. 



*' Just like dear, good little children, 
Let's try to obedient stay, 

Of the sins and strifes of this world. 
And we'll hear what angels say." 



Heart Thieves. 

I John, 3:18. 

There is a band of little thieves, 

That often 'round me dart, 
And like the wind that takes the leaves, 

They steal away my heart. 

Sometimes they catch me unaw^ares, 

And e'er I get my breath. 
The heart is gone, I know not where. 

But still I'm not bereft. 

Sometimes they come when both my eyes, 
Are fixed upon them straight. 

And all at once to my surprise. 
The precious heart they take. 

Sometimes they come in regiuients, 

By tens, by fives, by tw^os. 
And sometimes even onh^ one. 

But vet the heart is due. 



HEART THIE VES. 143 

No matter when or how they come, 
Though I know they :ire thieves. 

The heart's door is always open, 
And gladly does receiye. 

And if they fail to steal my heart, 

The heart is sadly grieyed; 
And nothing sare those little rogues, 

Such sadness can relieve . 

Sometimes at home, sometimes at school. 

Sometimes upon the street ; 
No matter where, it is the rule, 

The heart gives them a greet. 

Sometimes it catches one of them. 

And when its not amiss. 
The heart turns thief itself — what then? 

It quickly steals a kiss. 

And when the heart is «o bereft. 

O'er wicked ways of men. 
It receives new streno^th from thethouo^ht 
''These little ones don't sin." 

And all the influence that I have. 
Which to these thieves is given. 

Is pointing out the way that leads 
Their little souls to heaven. 



44 HEART THIEVES. 

They take the heart at early dawn 

Way off to Paradise, 
And show it to the blood-bought throne. 

Around the living Christ. 

They take the heart at sultry noon, 

Into a cooling breeze, 
Where all of life's hardships nisike room 

For what we eall "heartsease," 

They take the heart at eventide. 

When daily toil is ended ; 
They take it where the stars abide 

And have its tissues mended. 

And when the heart lays down to sleep. 

While in a pensive dream. 
These little thieves around it creep. 

And makes the rest serene. 

They take the heart at dark midnight. 

And wander far away. 
Into the land of })ure delight. 

Where midnight is as day. 

Ma^ friends, I guess 3 ou know by now, 
Who these thieves are in part; 

The Savior loves the little rogues. 
The children steal my heart. 



(jOD sl:e^s. 145 



God Hees. 

When I r'hse at early morn. 
Need I fear of any harm — 
God sees. 

When I run about and play, 
If I 'tempt to iTo astray — 
(lod sees. 

When my mama whispers low. 
*'Baby you do so and so'' — 
God sees. 

If I disobey her rule, 
Or if I am rude at school — 
God sees. 

If I do the thing that's right, 
Whether it be day or night — 
God sees. 

If I do a thing that's wrong. 
Even though [ hide it long — 
God sees. 

When I'm through with all the day 

And I kneel at night to pray — 

God sees. 
lu 



146 CHILDREN AND MOTHER. 

After I am gone to bed, 

If I cover up my head — 

God sees. 

Even when I'm sound asleep, 
While the angels 'round me ereep- 
God sees. 

80 you see I never fear, 
God's protection's ever near — 
God sees. 



Children and Mother. 
I John, 1:4. 

Isn't it noble children dear. 

To have a mother's roice to hear, 

A mother to honor und to love, 

And watch that you the right way rove? 

Once 'pon a time, I was a child. 

And I enjoyed a mother's smile, 

Since she's gone to a happy home, 

I have felt at times all alone. 

But your influence now I feel 

Gently across my senses steal. 

And undetined, resistless spells, 

Bring to me thoughts I cannot tell. 



CHILDREN AND MOTHER. 147 

I feel her breath upon \\\y cheek, 
And from your letters hear her speak. 
Seraphic sounds, more sweetly dear, 
Than when from her they met my ear. 
Dreams of you, dear childi-en, keep 
Your vigils 'round me while I sleep, 
And wiping oft' the sorrowing tears, 
Brino^ back the thouorhts of other years. 
Bright are the joys your spells create, 
They place our minds in happy state. 
For music's charm is weak and faint. 
To that which children's love can paint. 
But now I will not take your time, 
For thou art mine, and mine are thine; 
Thine by creation's mystic skill, 
Which formed and doth sustain us still. 
Thine by the more endearing love, 
Which sent a Savior from above, 
Our souls to save, our lives to bless 
With hopes of untold happiness. 



148 >.LV7'J rA.ir.s. 

Santa Clans on New Years Eve. 




Il seems to me iliat nil < f xiiuis h:i(l liciie. 
Andtlie new venr would he in the eoiniiiir morn, 
And it seems to me *tw;i-< SantnCIausthatsaid : 



N,LV7'.I ('/.MS. 149 

»' 1 know that the children are safely in bed, 
I'll just leave my reindeer and slily steal out, 
Andtakeagoodpeep at thegifts strewn about." 
Thetirst place he went todweltsixrecklessbojs, 
And in a sad plight did he tind all their toys, 
The drums, it was awful, each one of the six. 
Was riddled with holes —there was not a drum 

stick, 
A dog with his tail gone, a horse with no head, 
A wagon wheel tied to the wagon with thread. 
And Santa Clans, you know he felt awful bad. 
He stood there and lo()kc<l disappointed and sad. 
And then S4\nta went where dwelt three tiny 

girls. 
All sweet little nu'iidens, with <'ute dangling 

curls, 
U<' "^ai-d : "'1 hey 're not boys with such rough, 

cas'elcss ways, 
For ii'irls rnu be happy imnuch <|uieterplays," 
Uut <) Ik' was sh>ocke<l when he <'ntered in 

thi'rc, 
A (hill with both legs off hiy umk^v the I'hair. 
A little bird> -eyekss, with feathers pulled out. 
Reposed on a bed with its tongU'C in a pout. 
The tea sets so scattered that Santa Claus said: 
*• I feel verv sick— I'll go honie ^-ind to bed," 



150 SANTA GLAUS. 

But some one then usked him to sit in a chair, 
And things were explained to him while he was 

there. 
They told him that toys wrecked and broken 

but rise 
To take on nevv value in little folk's eyes, 
Those drums — 'twas a pity — it can't be denied, 
The boys lonired to see all the noises inside; 
The boys found out that they were hollow, no 

doubt. 
We all pay ))iiJr prices some things to find out, 
So, Santa, don't [>hin any venoeance next year. 
These toys, worn and broken, are none the less 

dear. 
And Santa, all children are not that way, 
For some have their toys onthe next xmas day. 
Then Santa said: *'Yes, I'd forgot childish 

days, 
I now feel hop'd up, you've explained childish 

plays.' 
Then Santa C'laus was asked to give them a 

speech, 
And this is the way thattheoldmandid ))reach. 



SAKTA CLAUS. 151 

*' We can hear the muffled tread of noiseless 

years, 
And they bear the stream of both our smiles 

and tears, 
They are loaded down with hopes and dreams 

sublime, 
As they come stealing up the scope of time. 
We are near the threshold of the open door, 
We are treading: where we' re never trod before 
And our days are on a loom and their chimes, 
And their warp and woof are past and future 

times. 
We are near where the old year is at an end. 
And we know that the new will soon begin. 
The year that is leaving may be blotted, 
But the new one is clear, its page unspotted. 
Let us make each day a record page clear, 
Then we'll have a clean volume for the year. 
Let us grasp now the key of inspiration, 
And wind our lives with new determination. 
That through the year now coming clear and 

bright, 
WeNI trust in God and advocate for right.'' 
Then Santa Claus, he nicely bowed his head. 
And said the thought of speaking he did dread. 



152 .1 rHAT WTTIT THE BOYS, 

A Chat With the Boys. 

I've heoii a boy myself. 
And with boy.s I play, 

But Tin for solemn chat 
\^'ith the hoys today. 

^'ou are just in prime, boys. 

Life is on ahead. 
Its resj>onsibirrties 

Never learn to dretid. 

Never h>ok behind, boys, 

Tp and on's the way : 
Time (^nous>h to look back 

On some future day, 
Thouii'h the way \h* lontr, bo\s> 

Fiiiht il with a will : 
Never stop tf> look behind 

When clindHn*!' fip :» idIL 
Fir.^t be s^ifre you'i-e riefht . boy.«*. 

Then with ecKira^'e stron«r 
St rap vt>ur (feti'innrinrstion.* 

And m<>>-e riiiht alnna. 
Voir arc not always l)oy,«*^ 

Soitsc day yoi^t'll €)e men* 
P)Ut Ufnv is the time, boy^ 

For Noa to bruin „ 



tn: KNOWETH AND LOVfJ/'f/ VoC. ]:/A 

When voii're near thi' top, boy.^. 

Of the rugged \\M\ , 
Do not stop to look iiroiuid< 

But climb, climb away. 

Shoot above the crowd, boys, 

Brace yourself and go. 
When you meet obstacles 

Strike them with a blow. 

Success is at the top, boys, 

Waiting there Until 
Brain, .md pluck, and self respect. 

Have mounted up the hilh 



He Kiiowetli niid Loveth Voii* 

Can you count the stars that glimmer 

In the azure of the ^ky'f 

Do vou know how many cloudlet^ 

0"er the world go fleeting l)y V 

iiod, the Lord, has each one nund>ered. 

Not a star or cloud ^o sn>all 

But His watchfid eye has noted, 

Uod, the Father, knows theuv alL 



154 INDUSTRY IN OHTLDRJiJN. 

Do you know how iiijiny children 
From bright morn to close of day, 
Free from sorrow, toil and trouble. 
Merry hearted, laugh and play? 
God in heaven knows and loves them, 
Cares for all they say or do — 
Guards them in his tender keeping 
And he knows and loveth you. 



IncUislry in Children. 

Proverb 22:6. 

There's enough, dear children, 

To do in the house. 
To keep you as busy 
As H little mouse. 

There's enough, dear children, 

To do all about, 
And if you will try, you will 

Soon find it out. 

There's enough, dear children, 

To do anywhere, 
So hurry around and 

Do vour full share. 



INblsmr IN (iHtLDR^N. 155 

And children, whatever you 

Do, do it well, 
People always, in looking it 

Over, can tell. 

If mama and papa desire 

You should work, 
Go at it cheerfully, don't 

Grow up a shirk. 

When you are out with your 

Playmates at play, 
Make it as merry as 

Bird songs in May, 

And when you grow up to be 

Women and men, 
YouMl know how to overcome 

Kvil and sin. 

The future, the future just 

Over the way, 
Is patiently looking for 

A better day. 

Its hano^ino^, dear children, 

Upon your hand, 
And i(< ready to march 

At vour command. 



I5<{ r ir.i77r>.V".s i:M>lS(i> 

Tht reforc vou :iie soldiels, 
('a|)tiuiis and oiiards. 

Lead voiir playiiiates and be 
Led hv M)ur (iod. 



Vaeatioirs Ending. 

I John, 5:21. 

heal* (hildien, the hour is near, 
Look "round in every nook, 

And oet your >slate and pencil, 
And find that absent l)ook. 

^Fhe suininei's sun is sinkinj>- 
The nights are oettini*' eool, 

N'acat ion's disjippearino-. 
It's abnost time foi- sclux)!. 

A few mole days, then Mondax 1 
You'll Ijeal' the IMnoiuo- bells,. 

Then yoU will all be cominif 
\*a<\ation news to telL 

Vou ha\-e had lots of play time, 

Lots of reel-eat ioh i 
^rake hold of youi* studies now 

\\ ith new deteVminatioUv 



It's verv iirand. dear cliiMrcn, 
Tliat \(Hi can u'o to school. 

Study well each lesson and 
Obey your teacher's rule. 

A dear little girl is she. 

AVho likes to go to seliool ; 
A very naughty boy is he. 

Who daily breaks the rule. 

You'll have by day and by night. 

Mania and teacher say : 
"Be good uiy child, do things right, 

And thorough be always." 

These words on my ear doth fall, 
And these words I must tell : 

"Whatever is done at all, 
Is worth the doing well.'" 

Love your mother and your teacher, 
Love your instruction too, 

Love your (lod who rules above. 
And to vourself be true. 



ins TELEPHONE To HE A YEN. 

Telephone to Heaven. 

A little child with her aunty came 

Into a certain store, 
But the merchant was busy waiting 

On those who came before ; 
The child asked many questions and her 

Aunty vvould reply : 
*' That's so and so. You must be quiet," 

And then she'd orive a sigh. 

"Well, aunty, wat is dat nittle box wid 

All dem strings tummin down?" 
** Why, baby, that'sa telephone where they 

Talk all over town." 
** I want to talk dat telephone," "No 

Darling, not today." 
"Well, net dat man tum talk for me 

I tell him w^at to say." 

The merchant overheard all this and 

With a pleasant smile. 
He thought within himself what he 

Would say to please the child. 
And the child had concentrated 

All its thoughts upon the 'phone, 
'Till the merchant and the woman 

And the child were all alone. 



TELEPHONE TO HE A VEN. 159 

**Now I can wait on baby," the 

Smiling merchant said, 
As he stooped and softly toyed with 

The curly little head. 
*'I want oo to tall up mama," came 

The answer full and free, 
'* Wif zo telephone and ast her when 

She's tummin back to me." 

'*Tell her I so lonesome 'at I don't know 

What to do, 
And papa cries so much I dess he must 

Be lonesome too. 
Tell her to tum dis eve'ing, tause at night 

I dit so fraid, 
Wif no mama here to take me when the 

Night dins to fade. 

And ebry day I want her, for my 

Dolly's dot so tored. 
From the awful punchen buddy give it 

Wif his little sword. 
And aint no body to fix it since 

Mama went away. 
And poor little lonesome kittie's ditten 

Thinner every day." 



16) HXChJLSKlli. 

'• Sweet child." * the iiKM-cliant nmnnured ;i.s 

Me touched its jinxious l)r()\v. 
There's no telephone connection wliere 

^'our ninin.Ms livinii" now." 
•*Ainl no telephone in heaven?" and 

Tears came to her eyes. 
*'l fouiilit dat God had evert liing wif 

Him up in the skies." 

The woman with a heavv sigh, and 

Child walked out the door. 
And the merchant he was puzzled as 

He'd never been before. 
And he said, I'll ever strive to nuike 

Myself a telephone. 
Through which the little children can 

All *'know as thev are known." 



Excelsior. 

To the iiu'inorv of Alnia. a little niece, boru JSeptenil er 
12th, 1888, died May 80th, 1891. An angel.) 

Rev. 2i:ii. 19:1. 

'Twas in the bleak September, 

The Howers were gone : 
AN'hen our lo\ ing Hower. 

Dear Alma was born. 



EXCELSIOR. 1^^ 

The flowers came and went, 
And came and left once more; 

But when they came again, 
Alma thought she'd go. 

I asked myself the question, 

*'Why take one so dear?" 
Spoke my heart full sadly, 

*'The answer is not here." 

God hath his mysteries. 

Ways that we cannot tell; 
He hides them deep like a sleep. 

Of them he loves so well. 

She had played, and needed 

A little wayside rest; 
Could she have found a better place 

Than her dear Savior's breast? 

Her earthly mission was love 

To and from ev'ry one, 
She's gone to be rewarded. 

In lands beyond the sun. 

Sleep on, precious Alma, 

Take your eternal rest, 
Mama and papa' re coming 

To take vou to their breast. 



11 



162 WHERE ARE THE BOYS? 

Weep not beloved parents, 
The Lord, He knovveth best. 

Your child's not dead but sleeping 
In God's angelic nest. 

She was radiant in beauty, 
Perfect, glorious, bright, 

God wanted her for a setting 
In His crown of lio^ht. 

When the dead now sleep in Jesus, 
Rise in forms that are fair. 

Then shall we meet our jewel. 
Our treasure rich and rare. 

Our diamond, sapphire, our ruby, 
Our dear little opal of love, 

Our pearl, most precious jewel. 
We'll meet her in heaven above. 



Where are the Boys. 

A question I would like to ask, 
To answer it may be a task. 
But the thought cannot be masked, 
Where are the bovs? 



WHERE ARE THE BOV^f 163 

Congregations' service of song, 
Thou who workest against all wrong, 
Canst thou help us find the throng? 
Where the boys are? 

Young People's Club at Baptist church. 
Thou who for the boys doeth much, 
Canst thou answer for us on such? 
Where are the boys? 

Ep worth League at Wesley chapel. 
Thou who for the boys doth battle. 
Canst thou just one answer grapple ? 
Where are the boys? 

These reply to us in sadness, 
We throw out our wings in gladness, 
But the boys go by in sadness, 
No boys are here. 

Pastors, while at morning service, 
Telling men of God's own mercies. 
Baffling all these earthly curses. 
Where are the boys? 

Pastors reply with saddened heart, 
The true answer we cannot start. 
When the truth we try to impart, 
No bovs are there. 



164 WHERE ARE THE BOYS? 

Mothers ! thou who hjist all power, 
To begin these human towers, 
Canst thou tell at this late hour, 
Where the boys are? 

Mothers with the fashions and styles. 
Have not time to lose with the child. 
Hence the answer comes with a smile, 
The boy's all right. 

At half past nine o'clock at night, 
Up and down the streets in a flight. 
Some at play and others in lights, 
There are the boys. 

On the corners they congregate, 
In wicked oaths they conversate, 
With a cigarette puff they state, 
We are not boys. 

Thus they are moving down life's stream, 
Grasping all things low and mean. 
Soon we will hear a mother scream 
Where is my boy? 

This is the way they get their start. 
The county farms will get their i)art. 
Then we hear mother's broken heart. 
Where is my bov? 



WHERE ARE THE BOYS? 165 

Then they wish time in its flight 
Could make him a child for one night, 
O ! on what a different plight, 
They'd start their boy. 

Too late, too late, will come the cry, 
Neglected days have hastened by. 
Hence we will hear both sobs and 

sighs — 

Where is my boy? 

In the year of nineteen ten, 
There'll be a mighty call for men, 
What can we give as answer then? 
Where were the boys? 

The nation's cancer makes adust. 
And moral virtue calls out thus, 
Mothers, thou who hast all the trust, 
Where are the boys? 

Mothers ! You have power to save, 
Down life's long stream you start the 

wave. 
Mothers! keep notour minds enslaved. 

Where are the bovs ? 



166 CHILDREN'S DAY. 

Children's Day. 
1 John, 4: 4. 

Children, when you read that sweet story of old, 
When Jesus was here anionor men, 

How he called little children as lambs to his fold, 
Wouldn'tyou liked to have been with him 
then? 

Thougrh vou could not see His kind look when 
he spoke, 

You can only read the story 
You are greater today while under his yoke, 

Than all of Solomon's g-lory. 

Though before our time death frost came to lie 
Upon his warm and mighty heart, 

And it quenched His bold and tender eye. 
His spirit did not all depart. 

That spirit now from thousands of pens. 

Is thrown upon the lucid page, 
It^s moving, it shakes the heart of men. 

In this golden, yet sinful age. 

It's showing the children how to go. 

To witness a part of His love. 
And if we will seek Him here below, 

We will see Him and hear Him above. 



CHFLDREN'S BAY, 167 

He's gone away, only to prepare, 
For those whose sins are forgiven, 

And many children have gathered there, 
For such is the kingdom of Heaven. 

Come, look in my eyes little children. 
And tell me through all the long day, 

Have you thought of your God and your Savior, 
Who keepeth from sin all your ways? 

When you go to rest little children. 

Right over your innocent sleep, 
Unseen by your vision. His angels 

Their watch through the darkness doth keep. 

They hearcth e'en the cry of the sparrows. 
They careth for great and for small ; 

In life and in death, little children. 
Their love is the truest of all. 

Then we'll pray that the love which guideth, 
The lambs that they loveth so well, 

May lead you that in life's bright morning, 
Beside the still waters you'll dwell. 

Since there's a world that's beyond the grave, 
And children are all hastening there; 

While you are in your youthful strength, 
Incline your dear hearts to prayer. 



168 CHTLDRPJN'S DAY. 

Put your trust not in this world, children, 
Which has for you thousands of charms, 

Though they catch the fancy a moment, 
To the soul they all doeth harm. 

We are faced by sinful influences, 

But our Savior was crucified ; 
For your sins and my sins dear children, 

He suffered. He languished. He died. 

But He went and buried His sorrows. 
Knowing that we all had our share; 

And He opened a crystal fountain, 
And bid children enter there. 

You chiklren were made for life's battle, 
And God's sword is girt on your thigh; 

And the purpose of God is overthrown. 
If you only linger and sigh. 

For our lives are coinages of heaven, 
To be spent in a coinage of love ; 

'Till all the realms of earth below, 
Are as pure as the realms above. 

We are strangers, we are pilgrims, 

But Christ our eternal brother. 
Whispers from out His blood-bought throne, 

"Little children, love one another." 



THE Sfh'PLE RKASOX. US) 

I wish that >our thoucjhts so heavenly were, 
And your hearts to Christ so given; 

That all our toils, our love, our care, 
Might lead us nearer to heaven. 

Were it in my power dear children, 

To set all of sin's pinions free; 
Your paths should be paved more smoothly, 

Throughout time to eternity. 

Let us all try-daily to forge a key, 

To open the gates of heaven, 
If we make that ke}^ the hearts of men, 

The bolt will be backward driven. 



The Simple Reason. 
Ill John, 1:4. 

The sweet month of May was drawins^ to a 

close, 
The month of hope and promise, of leaves 
And sunshine that clothes the earth 
With smiles, but fills many hearts with tears, 
By calling the victims of consumption to its 
Green gloom. It was the evening of the 
Holy Sabbath. The public ^vorship was near 
Over, and never since has my heart been 
So de3})ly touched a>^ by the songs they sang. 



170 THE SIMPLE nEASON. 

The children's voices sounded above all others, 
They were singing, sweetly singing, 
It was a lovely Sabbath day, 
And the evenincr air was ringing:. 
About the little child. Angel May. 
They sang of her stately sadness, 
Hqw 'twas whispered in heaven afar, 
How she asked the watchuian one favor. 
To set the beautiful gates ajar, 
*'Only a little, I pray thee. 
Set the beautiful gates ajar." 
*'I can hear my mother weeping," 
Said the child in a trembling tone, 
Feeling that heaven she couldn't enjoy. 
With mother on earth alone, 
She felt that when the gate was closed, 
Her mother couldn't see her so far; 
So she cried, "O angel give me the key, 
And I'll set the gate ajar. 
Only a little I pray thee. 
Set the beautiful gate ajar." 

The warden knew not a mother's worth, 
Hence could not feel for the child, 
And prompted by heavenly duty, 
He answered her with a smile. 



THE SIMPLE REASON. 171 

And when the child impressed it, 
Speaking of mother afar, 
The warden answered '*I dare not 
Set the beautiful gates ajar," 
In a low calm way I dare not, 
**Set the beautiful gate ajar." 
Then up rose Mary the blessed. 
The mother of the Savior of men. 
Who knew the child's young feelings, 
Who had motherly feelings within, 
She laid her hand on the angel, 
Whose feelings were just at par. 
The warden, seeing her ex{)ression, 
Set the beautiful gate ajar — 
Just for the sake of the mother, 
Set the beautiful gate ajar. 

Turned was the key in the portal. 
Fell rinofinor the orolden bar. 
And, lo, in the little child's fingers. 
Stood the beautiful gate ajar. 

With exultation I was about to rise when 
A stir was made, and a man rose whom 
I can never forget. He was an old man 
Upon whose frame the years of a 
Centurv had left their traces ; while 



172 riiE sryfPLE reason. 

As snow his white beard hungr upon his 
Breast ; and although the lower part of his 
Face was sunken by extreme age, his eyes 
Beamed with a fadeless benevolence and his 
Brow had scarcely a wrinkle. They told me 
Afterward, that he was the most loved 
Companion of Christ and in sweetness of tem- 
Per most like the children. 

Unable to support himself, he was carried 
Forward in the arms of his friends to the 
Little rostrum at the end of the room. 
All rose to greet him, and even little children 
Looking up into his face with affectionate 
Joy, as he whispered *' Bless the children." 
Having reached the stand, he attempted to 
Speak, but failing, sunk into the arms 
Of friends. 

Eyes swam in tears. 

Hearts melted in sorrow. 
After a little, he revived. They raised 
Him up again. He looked around like a 
Father taking his last farewell, then 
Stretched forth his hands above the group, 
And, while tears ran down his cheeks. 
He cried with tremulous voice, 

"Little children love one another.'* 



THE ISIMFLK liEA.SON. 173 

He could say no more. It was his last 

Sermon. He looked around upom them again 

With a smile of divine sweetness and 

His lips moved, but we heard nothing. His 

Eyes fell upon me and with a feeble gesture 

He beckoned me to him and seemed to read 

My countenance. *'Sir," said 1, "You and 

The children almost persuadest me to 

Be a Christian. You are fixing to 

Leave me. The children will be with me, 

We are to battle life for each other. I 

Pray thee leave me thy grace." 

Grasping my hand he said, "I leave 

You seven words, give them to the 

Children, they are Faith, Hoj^e, Charity, 

Peace, Joy, Truth and Love." 

*' Father," said I, "can't you tell me what is 

faith?" 
He whispered distinctly — 

"Faith is that which vou see descendinoj 
Down from the realms of celestial light, 
Something that's on the cross depending 
Guidincr children throuiJ:h this life ario^ht." 

o >r o 

And what is hope? 

" Hope has a sight which nerves the weary. 
And all of its brightness in luster shines, 



174 THE tsiMPLK REASON. 

It lights the path when nil life seems dreary, 
It cheers when all our strength declines." 

And what is charity? 

* * Charity comes in and helps soothe the dying, 
Its ears are open to the orphan's wail, 
It hears the voice of the homeless crying, 
It feeds the hungry and protects the frail." 

And what is pea<3e? 

''Peace is a calm, meek, tender glory, 
That fills our souls vrith the pride of life, 
It helps the > outh and the age when hoary. 
It is free from passion, from war, and strife." 

And what is joy? 

Joy comes pure as a fragrant flower. 
Its blossoms are scattered along life's stream, 
It cheers the heart in its youthful hours. 
And lulls men's cares like a merry dream." 

And what is truth ? 

"Truth comes in a majestic splendor. 
And its light shines in all honest souls, 
It makes men just, in their nature tender. 
It gives all strength to character it holds." 

I will not ask you what is love, for I belicTc 

That is a combination of these six. 

The mortal spasm now grasped him. Once 

More he spake, but it was with the energy 



THFj simple reason. 175 

Of strong health, " Even so, Lord Jesus take 
Me" — he was asleep in death. I 
Turned to leave and 

A poor wayfaring man of grief 

Was standing by my side, 

Who sued my conscience for relief. 

His wounded side I eyed. 

He uttered not ii single word, 
But showed his nail'd print hand; 
He saw my heart was so bestir' d. 
He said '*You understand." 
He said *'go to some mountain. 
And call the children near; 
You dip them in a fountain, 
And teach their heart to fear." 
He then left me. I am now a 
Christian. Children I have many things to 
Tell you, and through grace I intend 
To tell them yet. 

A week passed and one of the blandest 
Mornings in June that ever the sun rose 
Upon, I visited his library and found 
On a tablet these words: *' Jesus is very 
Precious to my soul, my all in all, and I 
Expect to be saved by free grace through 
His atoning blood. This is my testimony." 



176 THE .SIMPLE REASON. 

I left the room resolving within 
Myself to make his testimony my 
Testimony and to 

Love the children just as he did, 
Who for love once sweetly pleaded; 
Trust and guide, and never doubt 
Build a wall of love about. 

But I've always loved the jewels, 
Always thought that it was cruel, 
To efface their youthful beauty 
It has been a life-time duty. 

Yes, I love them, I remeniber, 
May is not like cold December. 
If I've words of rage and mad ii ess. 
Always check it from their gladness. 

When my heart is filled with kindness, 
And to evil shows its blindness; 
Then it's time to turn my whole heart 
Into the porte called children's mart. 

When I'm thinking of my Savior, 
When Fm seeking good behavior; 
When I look for earthly angels, 
Then I with the children mingle. 



THE SIMPLE REASON. 1^7 

When the general roll is thunder'd, 
If among the saints I'm nuinber'd, 
I will search that place of honor, 
"Till I find the children's corner. 

"And now little children, abide in hiin; 
that, when he shall appear, we may have con- 
fidence, and not be ashamed before him at his 
■I John, 2:2.s. 




1% 



PART III. 
Ajax' Ordeals on Lynching. 



180 AJAX' DREAM. 



Ajax' Dream. 

Ajjix of the Southlaiul 

W:i8 wtlkiiiiT out one day. 
Enraptured did his spirit seem, 
Inspired by some poetie theme. 

Or heavenly array. 

His iraze was runniiiir forward, 
When sudden toward the sky, 

A huz/ard rose upon his winirs. 

From off a dark and irhastly thing 
Whi( h startled Ajax' eyes. 

.\ hideous corpse he notieed. 

He shudders, standinii' tiiere — 
Hi- spirit feels a sharj) recoil. 
From that which taints the ail- and soil 

From lack of burial care. 

The lynchers had been there 

And killed a Negro man : 
They would not let his kindred come. 
Nor even friends his corpse entomb. 

But left it on the sand. 



A. J AX' lUiKAM. 181 

He almost turns tt) loave it — 

Hut 8to}>s mikI turns again. 
That oar<*ass there was <)n<'0 the home 
Of some sad soul now doome<l to roam 

Perhaps in endless pain. 

And so this trem!)lin«^ Ajax 

The dut^' does not shirk, 
But with his unaeeustomed hands 
Piles on the corpse the dirt and sand. 

And it was tedious work. 

When Ajax' work was o'er 

He said with tearful ejes, 
"* This country, caird the ' land of free/ 
Has no protection here for me, 

But whither shall we fly?" 

He thought of Afrie's jungles. 
Where his ancestors roamed. 
He thought of all the foreign lands. 
Where he thought man eould be a man 
And have protected homes, 

A ship was there in waiting. 

Her prowls turned tovvard the sea. 
So Ajax said, at break of day, 
I'll take this ship and sail aw\aj 
In search of liberty. 



182 AJAX' DREAM. 

He wended his way homeward 

His mind was all afritrht, 
He made a hasty trip to bed, 
And tried to doze away the dead, 
He passed a restless night. 

But while he slept a spirit, 

Before him seemed to stand — 
The soul whose body on the beach 
He covered from the buzzard's reach, 
Who spoke with warninor hand. 

*' Ajax." said the spirit, 

"Listen to ji friend's command! 
Thou hast in mind to smII the sea 
In search of free-born liberty, 
This is thy native land I" 

So when Ajax awoke — 

He formed a resohition. 
He said this is my native land. 
And if I make myself a man, 

There'll be a revolution. 

And then he closed by saying: 
'•'I think I know the sequel, 
ril patronize my fellow man, 
And lend him all the aid I can. 
And thus build up n»y people." 



AJAX' SECOND DREAM. 183 

Ajax' Second Dream. 

I dreamed I was with the lynchers, 
And in their arms I hiy, 
A.h me! has the vision vanished, 
Have the demons passed away ? 
They are like a pack of hell-hounds, 
They seek an innocent man. 
And simply on his color 
He dies at their command. 

Sins: to me sono^s of slavery, 
They will cool me after my sleep. 
And with freedom's odors fan me, 
Till into my veins they creep, 
For my heart is hot and restless, 
And all of the lynchers' crimes — 
The hundreds of hanging bodies 
Are dancing before my mind. 

My soul! this lifeless nature. 
Oppresses my brain and heart ; 
Oh ! for a storm and thunder, 
To sunder this world apart ! 
Stop singing, please — I hate it. 
But take up a buckle and sword, 
And clash these human demons. 
Till this lynching world is stirred. 



1H4 AfAX' SECOXI) DRfJA.U. 

Now leave nie,aiul take from mj ehan)ber 

This wretched inos(juito, and tell 

The people how much he annovs me. 

With his sillv, tirikliiii): bells. 

Its straii^re, luit my nerves he vexes, 

A thiiiiT without blood or brain, 

But ask it first please to hel]) me 

To tear the lynchers in twain. 

I long' for the jungles of Afri'^a, 
Among the wild beasts to roam, 
Where the hissing of the reptiles, 
'Will make n)e feel at home: 
In a visicm T was transported, 
Ti) Africa in a day, 
And through the jungles of memory. 
Loosen 'd my fancy to play, 

I wandered through the jungles, 

I played with the crocodiles. 

And toyed the head of the hissing asp. 

As we often do a child; 

The elephtmt trumpeting started, 

When he heard n>y f()otstej>s near. 

The kangaroo Hed wildly, 

Crvino* in distressing fear. 



And I heard a wild mate roaiinir. 
As the shadows of night came on. 
To snoose in the brush l)eside mf. 
And the thoughts of my sleep were gone. 
Then I roused myself from slumber 
And sprang to my trembling feet. 
Anxious for some one to soothe me, 
I wandered my mate lo greet. 

We gras])ed each other on meeting, 

And rolled upon the sand, 

And tried our best to kill each other — 

How powerful he wiis and grand. 

Then with all his might he seized me, 

With a wild, triumphant cry, 

That sounded like the lynchers' yell. 

And the Negro's wail and sigh. 

We grappled and worried together. 
For we both had rage that was rude, 
And his teeth as they sank into my flesh, 
Drew forth the lynch-escaped blood. 
But I had courage to tight him, 
For we were but foe to foe. 
While the lynchers come by hundreds. 
To defend we have no show. 



186 AJAX- VniGHT. 

Other wild beasts were vicious, 
The lion and the grizzly bear 
Fought for nie in the moonlight, 
While I lav crouching there. 
Then down to the river we loitered, 
M^here the young fawns came to drink, 
And my beast friends sprang upon them, 
Ere they had time to shrink. 

The wild beast in the jungles. 
Had tenderer, softer hearts. 
Than America's Anglo-Saxon, 
In civilized Christian marts; 
Would that I had the power 
To touch the hearts of men, 
And with the aid of wild beast 
Keveal this wretched sin. 



Ajax' Frig^ht. 

There's a dreadful horror 'bout me, 
That nothing drives away ; 

It's with me in my night dreams, 
It's with me everv dav. 



AJAX- FRIOIIT. 187 

It makes the night appear so short, 

The bed is hard and cold ; 
It makes the days appear so long 

To both the young and old. 

Must I arise from out my bed, 

And start my daily work? 
The lynchers, just for meanness, will 

My head from body jerk. 

To die like a man by gun or shield, 

Such a death I do not fear ; 
No other death 'Id be worst to feel, 

Than to leave my loved ones here. 

But fear of being lynched for naught 

Makes all one's senses start; 
To be chased by hounds and hell-hounds 

Draws pangs to bleeding hearts. 

I hear the hell-hounds yelping. 
They're coming 'cross the plain; 

With bloodshot eyes and gnashing teeth, 
For blood of a Negro's veins. 

I've never harmed a white man. 

They can't be after me; 
But oh ! when they're blood thirsty, 

Innocence is no plea. 



188 AJ.W" s(>/://jQ(y. 

Thero's stirrino- in my Imck yard. 
There's fuinl)lino" under my floor 

(treat (lod they seem to smell me! 
The Iviu'hers are at mv door! 



Ajax' Soliloquy. 

Riches, which onee I held in light esteem, 
And ins|)ired me — now I lauirh to scorn: 
And lust of fame which was an ideal dream, 
Has vanished fiom me with the morn. 

When in my solitary room I sit, 
And try to see where life presents a bloom; 
Not one fair dream before my mind's eye flits, 
But hateful thoughts enwnip my soul in gloom. 

My heart aches, instead of night rest, mj 

dreams 
Are anxious, that a cup filled up with drugs 
For me to drink, and leave the world unseen. 
And cro and be a feast to hunorrv bugs. 

Would I could fade, dissolve, go and forget 
That I upon the earth was ever known. 
For all these crimes, the fever and the fret, 
All we can do is hear each other orroan. 



.1/-LV F{INDRB:D\S SOLrrj)Q{'Y. 189 

There it? something i)ainful and .sad to see, 
'Twould shock the red nian looking for -a scalp : 
A human body hanging from a tree, 
A white mtm's victim thut had been entrap'd. 

I often pray, but the only touching prayer. 
That from my heart doth move my lips for me. 
Is, '*You nuiy have the heart that now I bear. 
But give mv mind and body liberty." 

O spirit, () si)irit of the other land. 
Turn here your voice and in a whisper say: 
*'() Ajax ! () Ajax ! come from that stand, 
And dwell with me in a brighter d;ty." 

I'm pond'ring. Fm wond'ring. I'm thinking. 
If this world intends to ever get right: 
It's reeling, it's shaking, it's sinking. 
Let my soul join the blue bird's flight. 

Ajax' Kindred's Soliloquy. 

In Africa. 

The t bought soft he future doth })uzzle my mind. 
And O how I shudder at flitting of time: 
It seems that it's hast'ning that dreadful day. 
When no where in this dull earth I can stay. 
The powers of Europe are taking my land. 
And siftinir it out at their own command. 



190 AJAX' KINDRED'S SOLTLOqUY. 

They do not attempt to civilize me, 

But use all their efforts to make me Hee. 

Where in this broad domain cjtn I fly, 

My body to rest and my mind satisfy? 

That land called the Star Spangled Banner of 

free. 
Toward which all the nations at one time did 

flee, 
My countryman Ajax w^ho dwells over there, 
Kelates that which straightens my sun kinked 

hair, 
He tells me they lynch, tar and burn the Negro, 
And mangle them worse than the cruel Nero, 
He tells me to stay here and dodge the wild 

beast. 
It's easier than being the lynchers' love feast, 
The isles of the sea are all tilled up they say, 
I wish a new mountain would rise in a day ; 
The fox and the panther, the birds of the air, 
They all have a home in this world somewhere. 
The sun shines resplendent in its bright degree. 
Dame nature is pleasant, all happy but me, 
I long for the wings of the blue bird of flight. 
To flee from this plain and in mid ocean light. 
And there put an end to these heart-bleeding 

sighs. 



A/AX' MONUMENT. 191 

And banish the tears from nij long weeping 

eyes. 
O God I is the time ever coming again 
When I can see peace in this broad domain? 
If not take me now in the palm of thy hand, 
And fling me away from this blood-shedding 

land. 
And if I don't land in thy mansions all fair, 
Just fling me until I am nothing but air. 
The lynchers, the lynchers are here by the 

throng ! 
My Savior, my Savior, O, why was I born. 



Ajax' Monument. 

When in the shadow of the tomb, 

My heart shall rest. 
Please lay me where spring flowers bloom 

On earth's green breast. 

Please never in vaulted box place 

My lifeless frame, 
For it is not the best of grace, 

Yes, I am sane. 



19} .17.1 A" sfmo. 

In 8oiiie sweet village of the dead 

I'd like to sleej), 
Where flowers may deck my little bed, 

Where angels creep. 

And if the children in their roam 

Know not the spot: 
Enough if but by loTe alone, 

I'm not forgot. 

But I'm a Negro and I need 

Not so lament. 
For never did a lyncher's creed 

Say ** monument." 

My (iod, will the time ever be, 

When I can have 
Pure thoughts without the lyn< hrrs' glee 

To make me swear? 



Ajax' Soil J?. 

(Tune: '♦ Tenting en the Old Camp Ground.") 

AVe are thinking today of the loved ones lost 
Gone through the lynchers' hand : 

Of the innocent men who have gone across 
The })rido:e where villains stand. 



AJAX' SONG. 193 

CHORUS. 

Many are the hearts that are mourning today, 
Mourning for the loved ones mobbed, 

Many are the eyes full of tears that say, 
Why are we left in sobs? 

Help us to say, "Humbly we pray, 
Father, is it brighter ahead?" 

We are hoping today that the Christian world, 
Will yet see the matter straight ; 

And will see that this question is all unfurl'd. 
Before time replies, "too late!" 

Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. 

We are praying today to our God on high, 

To wrestle this lynching age ; 
To listen to the widow's and orphan's cry. 

That's caused by this outrage. 

Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. 

We are weeping today but the hour will come, 

When the lynchers all shall see 
That America is the Negro's home. 

And here he's bound to be. 

Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. 

13 



194 AJAX" MEDITATIONS. 

Ajax* Meditations. 

If I should die 

Today or tomorrow, 

And my soul fly, 

Into bliss or sorrow, 
Would any who never saw my face, 
Know that on this earth I had filled a place? 

If I should sail 

Away on some great ship, 

And in a gale 

Should end my earthly trip, 
Would anyone while riding o'er the waves. 
Remember me while in my wat'ry grave ? 

If I should stray, 
Way off in the wild woods. 
And be the prey 
To vicious wild beasthood. 
Would future men while lev' ling down the plain, 
Know that I'd ever been in this domain? 

If I, at home, 

Were quietly sleej) in bed ; 

And lynchers roamed, 

To tar and burn my head, 
They would prevent my friends from burying me 
Could future men say that I used to be? 



AJAX' MEDITATIONS. 19o 

If when I'm dead, 
The future children come, 
With joyous tread 
And human beating drums, 
Will they while either at their work or play, 
Remember that poor Ajax had a day? 

Songsters will sing, 
While I am dead and gone; 
Their echo'U ring, 
And thrill the living throng. 
Will any songs remind the living men, 
That poor Ajax upon the earth has been? 

A cent'ry hence, 

While boys and girls in school, 

Upon the bench 

Obey the teacher's rule, 
Will any book show them the deeds and acts, 
Of trembling, poor, despis'd, oppress'd Ajax? 

God hold my hand, 
And give me power to write, 
Give me com ni and, 
That I may say what's right. 
I'll write a book before I leave this land, 
To show the world that Ajax was a man. 



196 A MOTHER'S RAGE. 

A Mother's Rage. 

Fruits of Lynching. 

A mother stood at the river brink 

Holding in her arms a dear child, 
'Twas all on earth that the mother had. 

And she said with a sacred smile : 
**your father did all a man could do 

To live for you and for me; 
But the wicked lynchers murdered him. 

Irrespective of mother's plea." 

She says, *'I know whereof I speak, 

In the sight of these my own eyes, 
Your father said in a mournful tone: 

'Dear wife, kiss the baby good-bye/ 
And that was the last I heard of him ; 

I knew not the lynchers' plan. 
The world is witness to one true fact. 

Thy father was an honest man. 

But honesty in this fast age, 

In regards to the dusky race 
Has carried many 'cross the dark stage. 

And brought to the whites a diss^race. 
If this mode of death is continued, 

Why should I leave you, my dear boy. 
To have your life blotched with such sights, 

Such a life you cannot enjoy ! 



My child, I am almost tempted now 

To throw thee into this river, 
And let thj soul go wandering back 

To Him who is the great forgiver. 
For then thy mother will be satisfied 

That thou art in God's tender care, 
For another death like thy father's 

Thy mother, she can never bear. 

And then, mv child when you have passed 

Beyond earth's shadows and its teachings. 
When Paradise is reached at last, 

Brought to you by the Lord's entreating. 
When slarry crowns shall deck your brow. 

And white robes to you be given. 
My child, you can't imagine now. 

How sweet 'twill be in heaven. 

The **many mansions" high in air 

W\\\ gleam with more than earthly splendor, 
And the shining angels, pure and fair, 

Will greet you with a love most tender; 
Your head in grief shall never bow 

But rapturous joy'll to you be given, 
My child, you can't imagine now 

How sweet 'twill be in heaven. 



19g AJAX' ^ASHmiNmS. 

But oh ? my ebiTd my heart repine^^ 

Haw horrible waald be the oruilt 
WheD In after yetirs it con>e» to nifnd 

That your blood was by mother spilt ; 
My child, I can-not bear to think 

Of throwing thee into the tide ; 
But ohy the lynchers I the lynchers I 

The m-oiher faioted and died. 



Ajax^ BashfuTness^ 

I wa& once out of social eircles^ 
As bashful as- a young nmn could he^ 
And I wondered if all society 
Could ntake a socialist of m^", 

I wandered on in^ my ba&hfuTnes^», 
Nothing socially good <?otfld I seer 
And the thought ftUed my heart with sa<l- 

n-tss^ 
No- sexjial redemption for mc. 

I vrent to a to'wn on probatiorry 
And my bashf uTness followed mev 
And while in deep meditation, 
A voice gently whispered to me. 



AJAX' BASIIFITLNESS. ^^^ 

It was the voice of a socml club, 
That was speaking so kindly to me: 
And I hetird its social improvements 
Saying tenderly, -oome unto me^ 

I went to the elub very shyly. 

They gla-dly a<5cepted of m«, 

But I told them I wa^ so bashful, 

A socialist I never could be. 

And I found that while it was social, 

Some other things theyM review^ 

There was moraFs tie and <3ulture\s trend. 

They ever had in view. 

The first time thut they ^calM on me, 

I didn't have very much blood. 

But all I had to my head did flee. 

And I felt like social mud. 

And when I got through theyallelapMme, 

^Twas not about what I said; 

But they were, through sympathy. 

Clapping the blood from my head. 

We next had the social jubilee. 
And from my heart I wondered; 
If any girl there would talk to me — 
A simple, social blunder. 



200 AJAX LOOKS BEYOND. 

And when I came to myself ao^iiin, 
I was drifting down the tide; 
I was in the boat for the social port. 
With a lady on each side. 



Ajax Looks Beyond^ 

I have tried to be contented 
In this land of vale and tears. 
When I think how Christ, the Savior, 
Suffered here without a fear ; 
But the way that I am treated 
In this low slough of despond, 
Makes me long to be transported 
To the calm, unknown beyond, 

I am longing for a moment 

When I can this country leave,' 

Fpr some unknown, peaceful city, 

Where they never sigh or grieve, 

Where the mansions glow with beauty. 

Which to mortals is unknown -, 

I am waiting, I am longing 

In thase brighter realms to roam. 



AJAX VOTES FOR MCKINLEY. 



201 



I am longing for the breaking 
Of the day when I'll be free, 
And can leave behind the heartaches, 
And toward my Savior flee ; 
When I shall to lynching horrors, 
In this cold world bid adieu, 
I am waiting, I am longing, 
And my race is waiting too. 



Ajax Votes for McKinley. 

Ajax went out to vote 

On election day ; 
White man was standing 'round, 

Things had gone his way. 

Ajax had heard before 
How the white mr.n done, 

Made Negroes vote with him 
Or, — he had a gun. 

White man said to Ajax, 

''Well, hoAV do you stand?" 

Ajax said to white man, 
' ' Straight republican . ' ' 



202 AJAX VOTES FOR Mi^KINLKY, 

White man said to Ajax, 
*' Leave the poles at once." 

Ajax said to white man, 
**Yoii must be a dunce." 

White man said to Ajax, 
*'You don't mean to g:o?" 

Ajax said to white man, 
^'WhilePmliving— Nol" 

Ajax said, quite raging, 
**This thing's got to stop, 

Bossino^ Neo^roes' votins:. 
No more '11 be a sop." 

White man saw that Ajax 
Was not like the rest; 

Could not be bluffed away 
With a little jest. 

White man said to Ajax, 
•* Why are you so bold?" 

Ajax said to white man, 
**Mj rights to control." 

White man said to Ajax, 
*a don't mean to fight." 

Ajax said to white man, 

*'I'm for peace and right." 



AJAl VOTES FOR MrKTNLEY. 203 

White man said to Ajax, 

**Drop your wartlike game." 

Ajax said to white man, 
"When you do the same." 



White man said to AjaX 
** What*ll you do to me?" 

Ajax said to white man, 
♦*Hit me and you'll seel" 

White man said to Ajax, 
"This will never do." 

Ajax said to white man, 
♦* Sir, the same to you." 

White man said to Ajax, 
"I'll the diet try." 

Ajax said to white man, 
"Thank you, so will I." 

Ajax showed the white man 
He knew how to fight ; 

White man showed to Ajax 
He could treat him right. 



204 AJAX' (JONOLUSJON, 

Ajax' Conclusion. 

My friends, our race is ostracised. 
Long standing tears are in our eyes, 
And we as meek and humble doves, 
Endure it all with smiles and love. 
And those who try to crush us down 
Return our smiles in hateful frowns, 
So we must rise and strike a blow, 
When e'er these demons block our door. 

As long as we retreat from them, 

They'll use us as their limber-jim, 

But if we punishments resist, 

The white man'll know that we exist, 

And if we all united stand. 

We can our rights as men demand ; 

But we must show determination, 

Instead of meek disconsolation. 

The red man showed that he would fight, 
This country gave him certain rights, 
They never lynch an Indian chief. 
They know his friends come to relief, 
The foreigner from 'cross the sea. 
Has all the rights of liberty. 
Because if humans take his scalp. 
His countrymen w ill raise a scrap. 



A J AX' CONCLUSION. 205 

The rattlesnake, the white man dreads, 
And on his body will not tread, 
Because he knows the rattlesnake. 
If touched, will to'ard the toucher make. 
The harmless ant upon the ground, 
Men trample on without a frown. 
If we resist, we'll gain respect, 
If we unite 'twill take e:ffect. 

There must be some blood shed by us. 
When Southern brutes begin to fuss. 
Some Brown and Turner' ve got to die. 
To picture to the demon's eye 
The fact that we are in this land 
To stay, 'till God gives us command 
To move away, and until then, 
We must be recojj^nized as men. 



We made the South-land with our toil. 
And we intend to share the spoil, 
But sometimes it seems just as w^ell 
To have a residence in hell. 
Poor men are cut and burnt like fuel, 
The country does not call it cruel. 
Someone must rouse this base-ball age, 
To overcome this black outraire. 



20(5 A J AX IS a II AST IS EI). 

Who's more tit to defend this right, 
Than we who've seen these wicked sights? 
Stern freedom's voice bids us arise, 
Our patient ways she does despise, 
Contentment makes real life decay. 
Brave discontent brings brighter day. 
What we are now, the past has made, 
Tlie future's on our shoulders staid. 



Ajax is Chastised. 

Ajax, in the stilhiess of the night, 

Lie down and take thy rest ; 
Live in the dreams of the starry light 

As the bird in its nest. 

This world is tilled with sorrow and shame. 

With sin, with tumult rife; 
But as metal is fused by the flame, 

So men are made by strife. 

Ere lontr from now, thv feet mav turn 

From this distressing mood; 
So h)se the thought that men are burned, 

And help to make life irood. 



AJAX AT THE CENTENNIAL. 207 

And Ajax, though it wounds and grieves, 
We grow strong by lees of pain, 

So shelter your heart against the thieves, 
And be thyself again. 

You have your life, why not be glad? 

For the gift of life is good ; 
But the lessons of life are ^reat and sad 

To thy dear brotherhood. 

So turn your back on the sinful ways, 
And blend the race together; 

Let us unite for a brighter day. 
And help to make life better. 



Ajax at the Centennial. 

1897. 
Ajax went over to Nashville, 
To attend the great centennial ; 
And a white man asked him rashly 
About the race in genera}. 

*'Ajax, tell me the whole se-juel; 
Your father was my father's slave, 
And now you stand as my equal. 
On this educational wave." 



208 AJAX AT THE CENTENNIAL. 

And Ajax paused for a moment, 
Slightly hanging down his head; 
And then from the depth of conscience, 
These are the Avords that he said: 

*' You know it was sixteen-nineteen. 
When my first African brother, 
Sailed over here in a canteen. 
And called America his mother. 

He climbed up degradation's hill, 

Two hundred and fifty years ; 

And over the Israelltic rills. 

He waded through heartaches and tears 

In his efforts to leave degradation, 
He was cramped, doomed in a cell ; 
Dishearten'd, discontent'd, discourag'd , 
By a prejudice born in hell. 

But through God's work, who guides 

man's life, 
The world's second Moses came; 
And through the sea of civil strife, 
Brought freedom instead of shame. 

From there we started out in life. 
To make a mark as a race ; 
But someone's ever causing strife. 
Bringing on us a disgrace. 



2(>9 



AJAX AT THE CENTENNIAL. 

You take the thousand oppressions, 
That are hurled into our face; 
And change them to progression, 
Then we will be a race. 
My sir, it is a well-known fact, 
That the Negroes' aim is high, 
And if they'll stop holding him back. 
He'll reach them unless he dies. 
He's in the national government, 
He's been a military man; 
And in these United States, 
He's been surveyor of lands. 
He's widely known in medicine. 
He's faced millions as teacher; 
Thundered his eloquence at the bar, 
He can't be excelled as preacher. 
And in hundreds of newspapers. 
He tones up ideas and thoughts; 
In connection with his people. 
To show what they have wrought. 

As for a Southern laboring man. 
His equal cannot be found; 
And to find a regular Negro tramp. 
You must search the country 'round 



210 A/ AX A I' run: CENTENNIAL. 

In scliolai'islii}) he's stood the test. 
In the institute's at home; 
And 'cross the sea — without a jest. 
His elo(juence is known. 

He's writina' i)oetrv books and ])rose, 
To scatter over the land; 
To show the depth from which he 'rose. 
The height where now he stands. 

A hundred thousand students now. 
Behind the study desk ; 
Have iix'd a frown ui)on their brow. 
They will not be o])pressed. 

I think I see the coming tinu', 
When this curs'd lynching land: 
Will see the Negro's worth sul)lime, 
And claim him as a man. 

And my dear sir, tifty years hence, 
When your grandchildren stand; 
Ajax grandchildren's recompense, 
V\'ill show an c(|ual man. 

A hundred years from now my friend. 
Could you and I [)cep back ; 
We cannot tell \our children then. 
From those of poor Ajax. 



AJAX' APPEAL TO AMERICA. 211 

Ajax' Appeal to America. 

My country, noble spectre of the past; 
Along thy rivers, and within thy vales, 
There breathes a deep-toned voice, that tells 

of days, 
When thou wert called the country of the free — 
Admired and frequented; when pilgrim'd hosts 
Trod thy sanctomed shores, and music filled 
The air with freedom. Broad hearts of men 
Were thine, in bonds of union; and around, 
The voice of love and happiness arose. 
Voluptuous life enkindled every heart — 
But as time moved on in silence, 
A dreadful change took place. 
The great Abe. Lincoln wept, he saw the wreck 
That slavery scattered 'round him — and he 

mourned 
To think that scenes so bright should fade so 

soon. 
Thou wast a marvelous country, ere the star 
That lit the way to Bethlehem, gleamed the 

east, 
And heralded a Savior — and perha[)s. 
Thy shores resounded with the hum of men. 
When Ajax on the Afric shores did live. 



212 A J AX' APPI'JAL TO AMERICA. 

Thou wjist a brilliant niv«tery- and from far, 
The nations of the earth poured into thee. 
Thou prospered well, now four wars, 
Stamped upon thy flag, but these four wars, 
And four times four large wars of ancient times, 
Could not shed blood enough to cover up 
The principle that underlies the greatest 
Of all wars, that's wagedby thee 'gainst thine, 
Andthoucould'st with one stroke exterminate. 
Thou claimes't to be a Christian country. 
And rankest with highly civilized countries. 
And there is nothing in the categorj' of crime, 
Or in the history of savages to surpass t hose- 
Fiendish, blood-chilling horrors perpetrated 

against 
My people by your Christians. The southern 

mob, 
When in its rage feeds its vengance by shoot- 

inir, 
Stabbing and burning men alive, which only 
Some disgusting birds and beasts, would do. 
And to })lcad "not guilty" is a waste of time, 
For when the mob's will has been accomplish- 

ed, 
And its thirst for blood has by its bands been 

(juenched. 



AJAX' APPEAL TO AMERICA, 213 

And the victim is speechless, silent, dead, 
Then the mobocnitic amusers have the ear of 
The world all to themselves, and the world 
Listens to them — because thy noble govern- 
ment. 
Planted by the Pilgrim Fathers, Defended by 
Noble Washington and regenerated by God- 
sent Lincoln — 
Urges it on and it widens as the waters 
Of the Missisippi entering the great gulf. 
And those amusers who so bravely kill, would 

flee 
Like Phantoms if brought face to face wnth that 
Great law on which thy forces move. 

The foreigner 
Who looks across the sea, and never comes. 
Thinks thou art great, magnanimousand brave, 
And we have heartily hoped that this estimate. 
Would soon cease to be contradicted. Instead 

our 
Confidence in thy nobility as a nation has been 
Shaken — and the future all looks dark 
And troubled. This tends to dim the lustre 
Of thy noble name and to obliterate the 
Cause of liberty which thou hast sung to the 
world. 



214 AJAX' APrhJAI. TO AM K HI ('A. 

Thy inonil sen.se is now on a decline and we 
May well ask the (juestion ^Miow low " someof 
Thy safe guards are swrpt away. Supreme 
Courts are surrendered, State sovereignity \^ 
Restored, Civil rights are destroyed, men 

are 
Lynched like beast of the forest. What next y 
P^mmigration wont save us for we are convinced 
That this is our native land. Neither will 
Colonization redeem us for we are colonized 
To day upon the land tliat gave us birth. 
Think, O America, of the sublime and glorious 
Truths with which, at thy birth, thou saluted 
A listening world. Thy voice was then the 
Trump of an archangel » summoning oppres- 
sion, 
And time-honored tyranny to inherit the sweet 
Freedom of thy shores. The oppressed Hock- 
ed to thee. 
Crowned heads trembled, toiling millions 
Clapped for joy. Brotherhood, equality, liber- 
ty, * 
And truth were the invitiDOf features. 
You redeemed the world from the bondage 
Of ages, was it to enslave them again? 
And not onlv to enslave them but slautrhter 



AJAX' APPEAL T(f AMKmcA. '^^^ 

M%)rso than the unspeaka})le Turks do 
The Anuenian.s, or the dread Spaniards 
Do the Cubans. Are the horrors of Siberia, 
Against the thriving- Jew to be exceeded 
Bv thy Christian crimes? 

To thee 
One came in hund)le guise, upon whose brow 
A sweet harmonious ])eace in beauty shone. 
Towards portals of peace, the heroic Ida Wells 
Reposed within thy house, and talked of right. 
Oh, had thy powers then but heard her voice, 
And trod the way she pointed, —then with thee 
This darkness w^ould have ended, — and this 

crime 
Which hangs about thy neck, would hang no 

more. 
But, lacking the MarJu hope that filled her 

breast, 
To cheer the ix)se-lipped nymph in her great 

work. 
She down-cast minded, but determined soul 
Kept a superior thought and crosse<i the sea. 
From thy gi-eat name she could have told 
Of the bright mansions in the freeman's land: 
O'er which no night descende<l. From h^rlips. 
The foreign nations could ha v« learned of love 



216 AJAX' APPEAL TO AMERICA. 

And friendship, such as this Wnched hind of ours 
Can show no sign or symbol. 

Ida's faith 
Was weak and wavering, and she opened up 
The eyes of Christian nations far across the 
Sea who've been in darkness and misled 
For quite a while. And they do think that 
When a nation's moral tone is on the decline, 
We well may wonder what will be the depth. 
Thou ait declining noble state! and the breath 
Of pestilence among thy lynching towns 
Sweeps to and fro, and in the place, 
Where Lincoln's armies rode, there lies a 

shade, 
That of late days have gathered like a pall. 
A midnight hangs upon thee — not alone 
This lynching crime, but the dim eclipse 
Of moral desolation. Heaven's frown 
Is visible around thee- Kise I thou wreck 
Of self downfall, and call u{)on thy God — 
If alone, so that those within thy bound, 
This land so dark arnl cheerless, may not 
See the bright day of hope in gloom go down ! 
Hut where protection, which is life and light, 
Broods ever like the grandure of the stars. 
That studs the summer skies of boundless 

blue. 



AJAX' DEATH. ^17 



Ajax' Death. 

(a DRAMA.) 

dramaiis person^: i 

Eli. 

Kamech, wife of Elt. 
Ajax, their tson. 
JoBEL their infjint child. 
Time— between 181K) and IDOO, A.D. 
^cene — A mountain near the Mississippi river 
where no one inhabits. 

Eli. 
Its awful the way our people are lynched. 
Its a shame we arc driven to this 
Desolate j)lace to save our lives, simply 
Because I had some intluence among 
My people and refused to use it to 
S.uit the white man and injure my people. 
I hare invoked my god without response. 
What else can 1 do? 

Kamecii. 
Name not thy gods, for I condemn them. 
For they have urged to curse thy destiny, 
And brouorht on us I his desohitespot as home. 



iil8 .I7.LV DEATIL 

Eli. 
Don't condemn me, O Runiech I I may err 
In my implorinir, hnt shoul<l I not ])rayr 

Pray to the God above. You know I oft 
Remind you of our wickedness, and warn 
You of this Southern god, the white man 
Of this degenerate who despises you, and 
Whom I despise and you often adore, 
But I will not re})uke thee, dear. 

Eli. 
For six long days have we been in this place, 
Our house all gone and of our stock, 
Not one remains. Mj' soul ! There is no hope. 
Heaven is closed and Negro men must die. 
Kamech pray to your God. 

Ramech. 
I have, and oft. But Eli we are doomed I 

Elt. 
And have we merited this fearful death, 
This slow consumino^ atronv, this famine, 
Cold and pain, and O my God still more, 
This inward consciousness of griefs stored up 
For a long time yet I Look how our flocks 
Are all swept off, our gathered crops ; 
Our children dead, but one, and weasoutcasts 



.IJ.LV DEATH, 210 

From our homes waiting for death to come 
We were better off before A])e Lincoln freed 
us. 

.J OREL. 

Mama, I am hungry. Have you no bread? 
My feet are wet and cold. 

Ram ECU. 
My precious child I I have no bread. 
() (Tod i)r()tect my child I 
Job EL. 
Some bread mama, just a little bread. 
My feet are so cold. 

Ramech. 

(Fallinjj^ on her knees) 

O pi-ecious God ! 

Thou knowest the secrets of our hearts, Thou 

Knowest my unworthiness. Not for myself 

Ask I thy mercy, but for my child. Lord — 

O spare my child, my precious child. 

He hath not wronged the lynchers. 

Eli. 
Ramech, I dreamed last night that our 
Long departed Ajax had got home, and 
Though he left us before the war I feel 
Somehow he'syet alive and will 
Visit us before we die. Its thirtv-five 



220 AJAX' DKATIL 

Years since we've seen him, he's ehan<red I 
know. 

Ramecii. 
Heaven forbid that he should come to us 
While in this valley of sorrows. 

Eli. 
I see upon the river a skiff which 
Contains a boy, an aged looking boy. 
And from my heart he looks much like our 
Ajax. 

Hamilcii. 
It can't be so, what, Ajax, Ajax 
The lost boy — long before old 
Abe did set us free I Eli you dream. 
(A I()n<; silence) 

Eli. 

That's him, he's coming to die with us. 

Ajax comes up. 

Ramkcii. 
Ajax my boy I Whence comestthou? 
\>'here have you been? Hast thou forgotten 
me? 

(Falls in his arms) 

Ajax. 

No mother, dear; how could that be? 
Thank God we've met but near our family 
grave. 



.l./.IA" DKATU. 221 

Father, ere this, is ripe in \\%q. lie was 
In his sixtieth year when Grant fought so. 

Eli. 
Ajax, what have you son, we perish. 

A.TAX. 

Nothing have I: big piles I had but " 

In this hind of lynching what ever we have 

We have not. The lynchers envied my 

Success and it was left with nie 

To lose my life or my earthly wealth. 

I took the one you see ine with here. 

Elt. 
I'm old, I'm cold, I'm hungry, I'm dying, 
I yield to all. 

Kamech. 
Grieve not, we shall not die of 
Huntjer. Before another night the lynchers 
Will be here. They w^ant our blood 
Because it is innocent blood. Lets not rei)ine. 

Jor.EL. 
Mother I'm sick, this ground is wet to me. 

Kaaiix'H. 
To see thee suffer in-the bloom of life. 
Thou whom I watched and cheered to 
See thee perish thus— O God — . 



222 A J AX' DhWTIl. 

Job EL. 
Mjiiiia I'm c'old — has the bread come? 
Ram ECU. 

for the days when as ji shive I worked. 
Thy life woukl then be spared. Hut Lincoln 
Freed us. Why are we not free now? 

Is Lincoln yet alive, and Grant? () God 
Blot these remarks from my memory. 

^^he weeps. 
A.7AX. 

Mother, fret not o'er thoughts like these 
Let us })ray (rod and wait our doom. 

Ram EC H. 
My Lord. My infant child and 1 once 
Thought that you were dead. But tell me 
IIow did you live, we waited long for 
Thee to come but all in vain. 

A.JAX. 

We parted — sold as mules. You 

With my father's owner, he in another drove. 

And I in a disgraceful to some one else. 

1 kept up with you all, until 

The mighty struggle came that freed 
Us all and effaced your whereabouts. 
I started out in search of you and 
Prosi)erity. I lived (juite well but 



A J AX' BE nil. 223 

Seeking higher still, !he white man 
Envied me, and hence my life was his 
When he saw fit, and eighteen years, 
I've wandered up a!)d down this world 
In search of one dear st)ot where I could 
Rest in peace. It must be 
Here to die with you. At first 
I fetred to land. 

God, this lynching world is full of sin. 

Ramkch. 
Despite our griefs, I will believe, dejir boy, 
That Providence hath brought thee here to 

me. 
That we mio'ht die tofrether. 

A. I AX. 

Mother what awful sights I've seen — 

1 oft have wished that I had died when young. 
Before this dreadful calamity. My blood 
Don't move, my mind deranged turns, at 

what 
I've seen this day. The carcases of 
Men with that of oxen, sheep and hogs — 
Did float together down the stream. 
I saw two brothers take a stand for right 
And there they stood, until the lynchers 
Canu' — and made the one take the life 



224 AJAX' DIiATJl. 

Of the other — murder his mother's son, 
The one who did this work to save his life 
Lay down exhausted. Then the lynchers 

took 
His life by slow process and left him there. 
The famished buzzards came to his rescue 
And tore the (|uiverinir flesh. In vain the 

num 
Foug-ht this new foe till breath was gone. 

Elt. 
Didst thou see this? 

Ajax. 
That is not half. 

Ram ECU. 
Then ntine it not. I've heard enough. 
I'm sick at heart. 

A.TAX. 

I saw — my God I cannot tell. 

Km. 
Tell on. The woes of others told to us 
May steel us to our own. 

A.TAX. 

I saw a barge of logs loaded down, 

With human beings, manacled, emaciated^ 

Ghastly. They sang and howled out prayers, 



AJAX' DEATH. 225 

And curves and laughter. It was horrid. 
With hands outstretched, thev beckoned me 
To come, but I stood off and watched 
And heads of men were thrown at me in 

rage. 
I further noticed a partly eaten bod}' 
Mangled and bruised. I shrieked aloud. 
And then I saw a sight that captured all. 
A mother, deathly clad, who in her arms, 
Upheld a child. She cast her eyes on high, 
And then she cast her infant from her. 
It sank beneath the waves and was gone. 
A mother drowned her own dear child. 

Ramech. 
My God this lynching world. 

Ajax. 

Hush ? I hear the howl of dogs. 

Eli. 

My son, 'tis but the winds. No human 
Being in this wild place save us. And the 
*' Star Spangled Banner" as that say goes 
Doesn't wave here. Me think that song's 
a myth. 

Ajax. 
Again I hear the dogs. I'm not deceived. 



226 AJAX' JJEATIl. 

Mother 1 dreamed last iiijrht I saw 

A mountain movinij on the waves. 

And it had all the semblance ot* a house, 

And my bewildered mind beheld unreal 

things. 
By one of the windows I saw a 
Gray haired man stand mute as death 
And by his side I saw one young in years 
His eyes toward hcaren turned : and then 

again 
He hid his face hehind his hands 
As if in sorrow. — And behold the old man 
Turned his back to him. 

Eli. 
That means but this — that God in heaven 
Has turned against us, and our doom is 

sealed. 
And I will wait my hour in silence. 
Fain would I curse, fain would I kill myself, 
Would I could die ! Already have I lived 
Too long — Hunger — Fear, my daily fiends ! 
Twelve days I've fought you bravely to be 
Subdued at last by thee. 

JOBEL. 

How cold it is. 



AJAX' DEATH. 227 

Eli. 
Is that a human carcass floating on the 
water? Look Ajax, look! 
Ajax. 
The body of a lynched man. Could I 
But reach it, and eat once more before 
I die. 

Eli. 
Go get it Ajax. Thou art a swimmer. 
( Ajax reaches the water and a band of lynchers rush 
from the bushei and grab him.) 

Ajax. 

Oh father help me ! The devil has me. 
The carcass had its spies. Help! Murder! 
Eli. 

( Rushes to his son's rescue, with his silvery locks dang- 
ling in his face. He rushes in their midst and grasps 
his boy. The lynchers spear his aged body as if it was 
a beast.) 

Help, for I am stabbed. My God these 
Bloody lynchers — But wherefore call 
For help when none can aid. Ramech fare- 
well ! 
Jobel, my child farewell ! 

(The father and son are lynched.) 
Ramech. 
O Eli ! Ajax ! My God of heaven. 
(8he weeps aloud.) 



3-28 AJAX' DEATH. 

JOBEL. 

Mainuia, why do you weep? Where is my 
Papa? Has he gone to get me some water? 

Ramech. 
My precious child. My husband and my son 
Are gone and the lyncher^ will surely be 
After you. I hear them shriek for blood. 
But I am nerved to die. 

JOBEL. 

Why don't my papa come? I dreamed 
He brought me some bread and you 
Dear mamma and I were in a house. 

Ramech. 
Sleep again my child, and in thy dreams 
Foro^et the ills of earth and reio^n on hiorh. 
Oh God, please Thou forgive my sins, 
And let me die ; but Father spare my child I 
He hath not sinned. Hush! the h^nchers 

come. 
They took my husband and my son. 
Ain't that enough? Why trouble me? 
I hear the howl of dogs. 

JOBEL. 

My papa won't come. O mamma — 

Ramech. 
My soul the lynchers are u[)on me ! 



AJAX' DEATH, 229 

O precious God ! To Thee I yield my soul, 
Do take my helpless child. 

(The Lynchers rush upon her.) 
My child ! My own dear child ! 

JOBEL. 

Mamma it is so cold. Have you 

No bread for me? Where is my mamma? 

Mam ma — Mamma — Mamma . 



But during this mighty struggle with 

Ajax and his foes, 
He and one man fighting for life had 

drifted from the shore. 
And Ajax fought a brave man's light 

against a watery grave, 
Exhausted down he seized some planks 

adrift upon the waves. 
He stepped upon his rescu'd ship with 

clothes all dripping wet, 
And blood from every garment fell, his 

eyes the white man's met. 
Death had pressed him closely and 

precious was each second — 
Two hands from out the water reached, his 

eyes toward Ajax beckoned. 



230 AJAX' DEATH. 

There was the bloodless pallor of a wretched 

drowning man 
With mouth all gaping, eyes bloodshot and 

hair on end did stand. 
The struggling white man exhausted from 

trying to kill Ajax 
Was fighting with water, now his strength 

was all relaxed, 
rierried**'! perish my dear sir, give me ji 

helping hand/' 
And Ajax's heart w^as melted down he drew 

him to a stand. 
And Ajax said, *' You've treated me as though I 

were a pup, 
1 give you good for e^H— I in (4od^s name? 

bring you ii\y," 
And Ajax heard bis n>other shriek — -afar upon 

the shore. 
And tears gushed down his bleeding cheeks* 

*MnT God can it b« so?'' 
The planks were drifting further and further 

down the river. 
And Ajax turned to his shipmater ^m\ these 

words did deliver; 
**The shriek insj^ voice von bear comes from 

niv mother s bleedinor heart—- 



A J AX' DEATH. Sni 

It is a shrill and helpless voice, it makes hit 

senses start. 
My mother murdered, butchered and my a«^ed 

father slain, 
Their infant child is murdered to, oueht I 

silent remain? 
I'an it be true that I have saved your wretched, 

wicked life, 
While others of your prang have killed my 

father and his wife? 
You heathen of the white-skin'd tribe, you 

sit down there and wonder 
Tve robb'd grim death by saving you, your 

watery grave I've plundered. 
I've prayed to God for vengeani^e through all 

these drejiry years 
I've gathered patience from my friends relat- 
ing all their fears. 
My assailants have been many and my defend- 
ers few. 
But now we stand as man to man, sir, should 

I murder you? 
Grim death keeps secrets better than the mass 

of living men. 
The river waves will gladly take 3^ou to the 

fishy den. 
Then I could dive down in the waves and be, 

mvself, at i-est. 



232 AJAX' DEATH. 

And youi- dear lynchers seeking me would 

vainly beat their breast, 
And though they are good hunters of the blood 

of Negro's vein, 
There they would follow — long and far to 

ne'er find my domain. 
Consider, as I do, sir, what the river's waves 

would be 
In contrast of the life, my j)eer, which now I 

give to thee. 
And I am now adrift, afloat in the marts of 

the world, 
And if the lynchers can catch me my soul to 

wind' 11 be hnrled. 
If all the demons of vour race could oat her 

'round us now, 
Sir, all my pleading would not keep cold death 

from my hot brow. 
But man was made for life's battle, and some- 
times life is fate. 
To every man that breathes a breath death 

cometh soon or late. 
And how could you die better, sir, than by a 

hand like mine. 
For all my race's punishment by all yourrace'» 

crimes? 



ATAX' DEATH. 2^3 

And coald I die a nobler death than facing 

fearful odds 
For vengeance of m}^ father and my mother 

'neath the sod; 
And for those tender mothers with their babies 

at their breast 
Whose husbands died the death of dogs at 

your race's behest? 
()! no, my mother's noble form lies not be- 
neath the sod, 
Its now a prey for buzzards' feast, you wicked 

wretch! My God! 
r hav^ bften at your mercy, sir, you tried to 

take my life. 
I have no hope of your favor, for you I have 

no rife. 
I could kill you and cast your form beneath 

the rolling waves 
But I am hunran, so ire you, I'm not to kill 

but save." 
The white man set there calm as death he ut- 

ter'd not a word, 
It seemed his frame was void of breath his 

soul was all bestirred. 
He never gave an earnest look he did not even 

wink. 



234 .1/.4-Y" DKATtL 

And Ajax said, '' These circumstances do make 

mv conscience think. 
O white man I have vou any heart and did you 

ever sii^h, 
And did your senses ever start to s«e a Negro 

die? 
Consider now the torture and the cruelty on 

my race. 
Look at my mother's cruel death, her infant 

child effac'd. 
Come go with me to Texas and see those red 

hot irons — 
That hurn'd the eyes and mouths of men and 

made them roar like lions. 
And how the lynch'd men hellow'd like a cow 

in dee J) distress, 
And how the lynchers laugh'd and took it in 

with minds at rest. 
Oh ! how the men did struggle to loose the 

lynchers' chain. 
Oa I how ther hovvl'd like ruad men, their ef- 
forts were in vain. 
The guards had gone upstairs to rest, women 

and children came 
To view the scene with idle jest, and they were 

not ashamtd. 



A TAX' I) EAT IT, 285 

The angels 'round the throne of God had turn'd 

their backs to earth, 
With hearts melted :4way in tears at sight of 

Texas mirth. 
This land of brutal cowards still lack the moral 

backbone, 
The moral courage, moral strength to drive a 

villian home. — 
To even lift a finger or to raise a warning cry, 
They stand in silent plejisure and gaze on the 

Negro die. 
And in the shadow of the church human be- 
ings are burned, 
From Sunday-schools the children rush this 

wickedness to learn. 
They gather 'round to take a smell of burning 

hunnin flej»h, 
They cheer the scene and make the spot a 

place of sacred mesh. 
For him to plead, when all the hearts his 

keenest prayer could probe, — 
Are but a breath of ether in the space around 

the o^lobe. 
It s no more than a ripple to the roarins: water- 
fall, 
It's a snow-flake in the valley to the cloud 

that cover*! all. 



236 AJAX' DEATH. 

There's no protest, there's no rebuke, there's 

not a single cry — 
Fished from the pools of blood and wrong to 

touch the nation's eye. 
The world now sits in judgement and could the 

nations plead 
This land would be a criminal of the vilest 

kind of deeds. 
Could Ida Wells have raised a force to follow 

her crusade 
This dreadful crime, long ere this time in 

darkness would be laid. 
If Frances Willard and her host would help to 

raise the cry, 
Intemperate lynchings ghastly ghost would 

fade away and die. 
For when a woman makes a vow that she will 

do a thing 
She's sure to win, or else she'll make oppon- 
ents conscience ring. 
Few men of crime can stand to break a wo- 
man's heart, perchance. 
Some nations chang'd their ship of state upon 

a woman's glance. 
Fair Helen seal'd the fate of Troy and queens 

of ancient times 
Have led brave hearts in cause of truth and 

made the wrong decline. 



A J AX' BE AT II. 237 

Some noble, .stalwart woiuaii have in evervtime 

and place. 
Wielded her influence, irood or bad, ui)onthe 

human race. 
If all the noble women who have a Christian 

heart, 
While sitting by the fireside would take an 

active part, 
And have a gen'ral family talk about the shi]) 

of state. 
And speak of what the states should do to 

have a union great- - 
And speak of how almight}' God was looking 

from the sky — 
Down on the doings of each one. He heard 

the lynch'd man's sigh, 
More husbands and more sons will go away 

from sacred homes — 
With purer thoughts and higher aims and of 

a Christian tone — 
'Till ships of church and shii)s of state will all 

be fill' d with men 
With ('hristian hearts, with humane minds, 

with works oppos'd to sin. 
Then there'd be more McKinley hearts as 

governors of states. 



^38 L/.IA" DEATH. 

To see that men obeyed the Ijiw.s which they 

theni.selves would make 
Then e\ 'rv irov'nor would be fit to make a 

president 
The white house then wouhl ever have a man 

with jjfood intent. 
Then lynching crimes would melt away as ic« 

in summer's heat, 
Then we could praise this ship of state, this 

union strontr and ii^reat. 
For many years my race has been a universal 

target, 
They never try to find the part that's crimson, 

bright and scarlet, 
In all of the affairs of life enormous fads have 

s|)ent 
All of their forces upon him to bring our dis- 
content. 
All those unhappy })hrases they should try to 

set aright, 
Are dwelt upon with mighty force to make as 

dark as night, 
A just investigation, to show the brighter side, 
Is never made by those who strive forever to 

deride. 
TheNegro's moral standard, sir, has never been 

as low 



AJAX' DKAlll. 239 

As those destructive lyncher's hearts who nev- 
er trv to know 
Whether it was a criuje or not they're simply 

satisfied 
To pass their own meek judgment, they crare 

the Negro's hide. 
There's no class in America whose moral 

])athway's till'd 
With thorns as is the Negro's and he must 

tread at will. 
American Christianity's not recognized by 

Him 
Who came to earth to die for man and give 

him Christian trim. 
Her body's broken by disease her conscience 

seared with crimes. 
A mind and soul of cruelty to caj) tht heath- 
en climes. 
And in the light of all these things itis a jmor 

spirit 
To point with Christian horror but ne'er try 

to prohibit. 
Ah! what a reckless nation, what an undiscip- 

lin'd child 
Noble, but sometimes tricky, doing somethings 

that are wild. 



240 AJA.V DEATH. 



A freeman am 1, must 1 die a slave adrift at 

sea, 
Or must I live as master's doir to whimper at 

his plea. 
And must J crawl down at his feet, and must 

1 lick his hands? 
Poor Ajax' cheeks did flush with heat he 

ground his teeth like sand. 
By Jove, by thunder, by the gods, I'd rather 

herd with wolves. 
And seek the lion's friendship and to tigers 

nuike my love, 
Then I could marshal all their strenjjth ajriiinst 

the cursed mob. 
And teach them how it felt to crive a beast a 

wailin«^ sob. 
To all my sorrows I would add those of my 

l)unished race, 
And devote myself to vengeance upon this black 

disgrace. 
And I would pray to all the gods, the gods both 

good and bad 
To lend me their special terrors to ridicule this 

fad. 
I'd ask for tempest, heat and cold, for drought, 

for wild beast's lair. 



AJAX' DEATH. 241 

And all tho poison of the Uad that meD let 

loose in air — 
And all the thousand other things that quickly 

put to sleep— 
Of which men die on sea and land, my God! 

why should I weep? 
My feelings are not vagary as a sensitive lad 
But reas'ning of suffering manhood to give 

endurance sad. 
Every age has its sorrows and O, the ills of 

time, 
No parallel in human life to match this lynch- 
ing clime, 
My spirit never goes to sleep I cannot rest at 

night, 
A dog remembers, long, a wrong, he knows a 

friend at sight. 
I have a book of great events, I'll write this 

voyage down 
That men may know what I have seen and try 

its depths to sound. 
My mother, father all are gone and I in this 

wild wood, 
My wife and child sev'r'd from me, all gone 

but my manhood. 
I never hope to tind them now amid my anx- 
ious fears 



242 AJAX' DEATH. 

As "Ben Hur" found his jewels after eight 

long grieving years. 
He found his precious mother and his sister 

with disease 
From out a wicked duno^eon he brought them 

to release. 
But dungeons where the lynchers place the 

prison'd corpse of man 
The buzzard saihng in the air has all at his 

command. 
O white man! Can't I probe from you a single, 

tender sob ? 
And won't you help me pray one prayer to 

your Almighty God ? 
"O God! give me a little faith and into my 

darkness — 
That's deeper darkening every day, O send n 

light of rest. 
All hopes deal with the future Lord, I hope 

for better days , 
And while I'm drifting down the tide, guide 

me the right of way." 
Laurels of this world may be sweet but they 

soon pass away. 
We have no laurels as a race, are they in com- 
ing days? 



AJAX' DEATH. 243 

Like those colossal tombs of old on drifting 

desert sands 
They cast shadows 'cross the cent'ries then 

crumble to the land. 
This country in a prosperous stage will yet 

come to a halt, 
And see the depths of this outrage and remedy 

the fault. 
When time lies down fore'er to sleep at eter- 
nity's feet, 
And vanities, pomps, more creep upon the 

stage so sweet — 
And stars of heaven have all gone out of their 

ethereal home 
The eternal hand, unseen by us across this land 

will roam." 

* * * * 

The evening shade was gathering now, the 
surging waters roll'd, 

And Ajax felt the cool night wind, it seemed 
to fan his soul. 

Unruly winds began to cease and zephyr's 
breezes rose 

The lotus plant from water's depths before 
his gaze reposed. 

The solemn river loiter' d on its way quite un- 
concerned. 



244 A J AX' DEATH. 

The palm trees shook their nodding heads and 

stoop' d to greet the fern. 
The Jackall slipping on the bank kmew Ajax' 

skin was black 
He snapp'd his teeth he thought t'waslaw his 

Heshless bones to crack: 
The guiding stars began to show, the diy went 

into night 
And like a phantom ship at sea they drifted 

out of sight. 
The planks, call'd ship on which they rode, 

went cahnlj down the river — 
And no one knows unto this day which was 

the longest liver. 
Did Ajax kill the white man? O no, his heart 

was tender I 
Did white man kill poor Ajax? his heart was 

rash as timber ! 
Did both of them drift to the gulf and make a 

feast for whales ; 
Did both of them escape and shall we jot hear 

both their talcs? 
If poor Ajax is yet alive and dwells upon the 

land, 
He'll write a book to sht^k© this world ind 

makt men understand. 

DoDiinu!^ Vob.ucum. 



246 CONTENTS. 



CONTENTS. 



At My Mother's Grave, - - - - . 9 

A Ilumaa Artist, - . . . . . \\^ 

Alone with Jesus, ... ... io4 

Best Things in the World, - - - - 77 

Cain and Abel, - - - . . . 35 

Christmas Gift, 127 

Class Valedictorian, . . . . . 133 

Consolation, - - - - ... 31 

Deception, - --.... 88 

Dedication, - ... . . 3 

Douglass Dead, - - - - - - 41 

Fashion, - ... . . 108 

Fixed Love, - . . . - - 94 

Fleeting Spring, ... - . 129 
From Degradation Through Supplication to 

Education, - - - - - - 79 

Harper, Mrs. Frances E. - - - 33 

Just Married, . . . . . 123 

Hurrah for McKinley, - - - - 58 

Lincoln's Call, - - - - - 57 

Life's What We Make It, - - - 32 

Life Pictures, - - - - - 125 

Love's Labor Lost, . . . . - 87 

Love Regained, - ... - 90 

Love and Fear Contest, - - - - - 92 

Man's Imperfections, - - - - 47 

Maceo— Cuba's Liberator, - - - - 71 

Mother's Songs, . . . . - 21 

Mother's Rage, . . - . - 196 



GONTENTti. 247 

Moth Tly Emotions, 28 

Memory of Mother, ... - 10 

Maid and Mosquito, - - - - - 119 

Miigna est Veritas, - .... 121 

Miss Snowflal^e and the Lovers, - - 97 

My Bible, . . . . - . 103 

My Sweetheart, . . . . .43 

Negroes' '• America," . - - - - 128 

New Year's Greeting, - - - - - 95 

Only, - - .... - 19 

"Our Country," - - - - - 10 

Payne, Bishop Daniel, - - - - 40 

Preamble, . . . . . - 7 

Preface, - - - - - - - 5 

Quietude, - - - - - - 126 

Sam Jones, .... . \\q 

Sjnnet — October, ----- 70 

Spotless, - - - - - 25 

Stowe, Harriet Beecher's Works, - - 64 

Stowe, Harriet Beecher's Monument, - - 69 

Strong Drink, - . . . - 111 

The Call that All must Obey, - - 60 

The Easter Man, - - - - - 43 

The Model Girl, ..... 81 

The Trip I'd Like To Take, - - - 99 

Time— Eternity, - - - - - 140 

Uncle Tom's Cabin, - - - - - 64 

Voice from the South, ... - 36 

Woman In Congress, - - - - 124 

Y. M. C. A. Founder, - - - 75 

Pakt Seoondi. 

Childrens' Corner, - - - - 138 
Cliildreiis' Kisses, ..... 139 



248 CONTENTS. 

Childreus' Day, ----- 166 

Children and Mother, - . . . . 146 

A Chat With the Boys, - - - - 152 

Excelsior, ..... leo 

God Sees, - - - - - 145 

Heart Thieves, - - - - - 142 

He Knoweth and Loveth You, - - 153 

Industry lu Children, .... I54 

Sauta Claus on New Year's Da/, - - - 14S 

Telephosie to Heaveu, - - - 153 

The Simple Keason, - - - 169 

The Time of the Singingf of Birds, - - - 141 

Vacation's Endinj^, - - - - 156 

Where i.re the Boys, - - - - 162 

Part Tuiud. 

Ajax' Dream, ----- 180 

Ajax' Second Dream, - - - 183 

Ajax' Fright, ^ - - - 186 

Ajax' Soliloquy, - - - - 188 

Ajax' Kindred's Soliloquy, - - - 180 

Ajax' Monument, - - - 191 

Ajax' Song, - - - - 102 

Ajax' Meditations, - - - 104 

Ajax' Bashfuluess, - - - - 198 

Ajax Looks Beyond, _ . _ 2OO 

Ajax votes for McKiuley, - - - 201 

Ajax' Conclusion, _ „ _ _ 204 

Ajax is Chastised, - - - - 2C6 

Ajax at the Centenial, - - - - 207 

Ajax' Appeal to America, - - - 211 

Ajax' Death— (A drama.) - - - 217 



